Brothers
by CaptainTinaRaven
Summary: After Kenny's parents get divorced, he's forced to live with his dad in a small town called South Park. Once his dad finds a new wife, will he survive living in a house with the biggest bully in school? Or will he fall into something deeper? CartmanxKenny
1. Prelude

Brothers

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A sibling relationship you will never forget (Hopefully).  
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Main characters, Cartman and Kenny (And all other people), created by © Matt Stone and Trey Parker (My Effing Gods).  
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I don't expect you to know my name. It's not really world wide. Kenny. Plain. Simple. Just like the million other Kennys in the world. I'm just one of them. I mean, how many Kennys do you know? I guess, I'm getting a little too over my head.

Well, let's see. My parents just got divorced. Mom was sick and tired of dad and left with my brother. She left me with the drunk bastard… But I'm just one Kenny in this world. Nobody really would notice me.

Since dad couldn't afford the house, we had to move. We wound up in the first small town with a bar. That small town just happened to be some mountain town in Colorado. We stayed there where everything was poor and dirty, like us. The only exception was that we were the poorest and the dirtiest.

-

I went to school the first day we got there. I hated him for that.

It seemed like when I walked into the damn building, everyone was looking at me. Just staring. At what? Me? I tried to shrug it off, by making my way to my first class for the first day of, what I liked to call, Hell. Instead, I ended up bumping into someone. And, with my luck, knocking them down.

Oh shit. A ginger kid too. Well, to me that's what he looked like. Pale skin, freckles, red hair. Ginger. But I kind of lost his balance and he dropped the books he was carrying.

And if it wasn't for all the kids around us laughing at him, I would have left saying it wasn't my problem. I kneeled down and helped him gather his books again. "Sorry," I said, feeling kind of bad.

He stopped and the green eyes that were starring through glasses, watched a little confused. "What?" He spoke up over the laughing, but it sounded like he didn't understand what I said.

I figured it was because of my hood, so I repeated myself, trying to make it sound a little more audible. "Sorry," If he asked again, I would just ignore it. Because I wasn't about to take my hood down. It never works that way.

He gave me a smile, but was soon pushed again and those books we just picked up were all over the floor. He let out a sigh of irritation as the (now, crowd of students) laughed harder. He went back to the floor and started what he had just got done doing.

"Well, if it ain't the little Jew," A brown haired guy said over the crowd (which made the roar of laughter increase). He had a scary evil face on him, and, from the looks of it, this wasn't the first time this happened. He didn't laugh with the students, he just smirked, showing off his incredibly white teeth.

"Drop it, fat ass!" The guy who was pushed (now, twice) spouted out, before getting to his feet. "I, seriously, don't have time for this today!" He got his books under control, finally. It looked like he was about to walk off and let the guy push him around. He must have been busy. A dorky looking kid like that, I wouldn't be surprised.

I looked back at the guy who had been doing the bullying. I hadn't noticed until the words 'fat ass' hit my ears that the brown haired kid was kind of chunky. I figured I would stay out of this for now. I mean, this is my first day. I'm not about to get involved with this big guy (who everyone seems to look up to and follow) and ruin my life for good.

He heard what the ginger had to say, but didn't look like he was going to let him go that easy. He folded his big arms over his thick chest and gave off a bigger smile before saying something to him, "Yeah, alright. I'll let you get back to Dork-ology, you Dreidel spinning Day-walker." For some reason, he didn't move. He didn't walk away. It was like he was waiting and knew the other kid would come back.

Sure enough, he stopped. His face turned pure red when he looked back at him. "Do you not have that much of a life!? Don't you have anything better to do!? Like, I don't know, sit in front of the TV and get fatter!?" He started to walk towards him now, and for some reason he dropped his books into my arms.

I couldn't help but think, was this a fight? I feel bad for the kid, sure. But this little book-worm is going up against this huge guy? I had to see this. It'd be funny as Hell to see if the Jew actually knocks the crap out of him.

Suddenly, this loud beeping noise comes from the crowd. It sounds like a noise a big truck would make, backing up or something. A guy with a cell phone in his hands comes out from the crowd. He has this serious look on his face. I was wondering who this guy was now. He had black hair, built, and some random football jersey on. It was navy blue, gold, and the numbers were white. I'm guessing Denver Broncos only because South Park is right next to it.

Everyone stopped talking, just looking at him. The only two people that didn't pay much attention to him were the two who looked like they were about to fight.

The cell phone made the noise again and a small smile went on his face. He grabbed the dorky kid's wrist and ran, "Watch out, Kyle! Wide load coming through!!!!"

The whole crowd of students went back to laughing harder than ever now. The only difference was that they were now laughing at the big guy and the two guys left.

I looked down at my arms. I was still holding that kid's books! I looked at the big guy and he looked pissed as ever. Like he'd grab and swing at the first one who gave him a dirty look. I didn't want that to be me, so I ran for the two other guys.

I found them around the corner.

The tall guy with black hair steadied his running speed, now, just placing his hand on his friend's back. "Dude! Don't let him bug you. He's Cartman," I'm guessing that's what that other guy's name is. He said the ginger kid's name before too. His was Kyle. He continued talking, "You know, Cartman? The guy who told us Jesus lived for thousands and thousands of years ago, before B.C. He said that with a straight face!"

That got the red head to laugh a little. I guess, he was calmed down, "Yeah, especially when B.C. means Before Christ." That was followed by more of his laughing.

The black haired guy was the first one to notice I was behind them. He turned, standing a little bit in front of his friend. I think he thought I was going to start something by the way he was looking.

I sunk back a little and handed out the books without a word. I didn't want any trouble with them either. I hardly even kept eye contact. Maybe I could just drop them off and bail. They might not know who I was because of my hood. Then again, I never take the thing off.

The dorky guy pushed the guy who was in his defense (not a real push). He smiled his way, then mine, "No, he's cool. He's the only one who helped me when I dropped my stuff. In fact," Only because it was my fault they fell in the first place. He took his steps until he was in front of me. He took the books that were presented to him and hugged them into his arms, "these are mine." He was referring to the stuff he was holding. He nodded his head a little, "Thank-you. I didn't get your name."

The other guy came forward now and grabbed my hand with a tight grip and shook it, hard.

My fingers felt like they were glued together now and pounding on the inside. I shook it off, though.

He pointed to himself, "My name's Stan." Surprise, surprise. He pointed to his friend now, "This is Kyle."

It was Kyle's turn to talk now, "And the big piece of lard-ass is Cartman. Why people worship that idiotic moron is beyond me." He shrugged and gave the wall a blunt look.

Now, Stan's turn. He gave his friend an 'Are you kidding' type of voice, "He might be a fuckin' brainless ass rammer, but he can kick the crap out of anyone and uses every type of blackmail possible. You have to be careful 'round him, dude!"

Next, Kyle. He gave a sarcastic laugh, "Cartman? My ass! I'm not afraid of him!"

I interrupted their half-fighting/half-caring conversation, "Um… Nice to meet you?" I shrugged once and turned to walk away. I didn't want to get involved with this either.

"Wait, kid!" I could tell it was the black haired guy who called out to me. His voice was lower than the other, "You have a name?" He stood there waiting.

I'm not really the kind of person to leave someone (who didn't do anything) hanging. "Kenny," I muffled out.

It looked like his neck gave out and his head went slant. I said one word and the guy was confused already? "Lenny?" He said, not sure.

"Kenny!" I repeated my name louder, trying to make myself clear. I knew my hood was in the way, but people around here were gunna have to get use to that.

The Jew went to the other guy's side. "No, I think he said Benny," He said in his higher, superior voice. As if he knew what he was talking about. I had news for him, he was wrong.

"No! Kenny!" I said louder than I expected. I got the attention of two girls walking by. They ended up whispering to each other and walking away with a preppy giggle.

They both gave an "Oooooh!" in realization and said my name, "Kenny!" almost simultaneously. They must have known each other for years if they could read each other's minds like that without knowing it.

"So, Kenny. You want to hangout after school?" Kyle said with a cheerful voice.

"Any friend of Kyle's, is a friend of mine," Stan added in after.

"Wow, I really wish I could," Here comes my excuse. I don't really do 'hanging out.' Especially not with two people who are best friends, because I'm usually the third wheel, "But I just moved here and I have a lot of unpacking to do. Sorry guys," At least I told the truth. Even if I wanted to, I couldn't. I'd be the one who was taking the shit out of the boxes and putting it away while my dad sits in front of the TV watching Wheel of Fortune while chugging down whisky. For some reason, school didn't feel so much like Hell anymore.

"Well, That's cool. Some other time," The red head waved me off and began walking with his friend.

-

It was a normal day. Things were actually working out pretty well. Pretty well. Yeah, until passing period of fifth hour. Someone stopped me in the halls.

That Cartman guy.

"Hey, kid. I saw you in the morning," He said as if he thought he was some kind of smooth talker. He even got me to sit down with him on the stairway. The funny thing was, no one walked down them. People thought about it, but once they saw this kid, they ran like Hell.

"So?" I said, not really impressed. He was a bully. I knew guys like him. He wanted something from me, didn't he? He came to the wrong person. I have nothing to give. I hardly have anything to give to myself.

He looked a little taken back by that, but ignored it for the time being, "So, best friends with the Jew, right? I saw you holding his shit." He grabbed my collar and pulled me in close, "If you were smart, kid. You would have dropped those mother fucks and ran." His eyes scanned my face that was covered by my orange hood. He let me go, "But, since, I can tell you're new, I'll let you go with a warning." He sat back a little placing his folded hands to his stomach, he looked down at me, "Because if people loose respect for me again, and you're in my sight. You're going to feel a little more than a few bones broken." His thick eyebrows curved down more than they were before and his eyes went wider, "You got that?"

I couldn't help but feel my stomach turn sour and drop. I swallowed a bitter taste and gave him a weak nod. He even managed to make me stutter, "Y-yes, sir." I mumbled out. I found it a little funny, since I usually only say that to my dad. I found it disturbing at the same time.

He gave me this evilly pleased face, "Think you can keep your mouth shut?" He pulled out a wallet from his back pocket. Opened it. I swear to you, it smelled like fresh cash. He was loaded. Well, obviously. A guy his size probably is (if you know what I mean). He had rolled up hundreds, twenties, everything. He plucked out a dollar and shoved it in my hood, "You didn't see what happened this morning, did you?"

My eyes widened. I knew what he was doing. He was going around the school, searching out everyone who saw what happened and bribing them with money to keep their mouths shut. He was a little hostile over people loosing respect for him. That's how he got so popular. How much you want to bet? But a dollar? I'd gladly take it and keep it a secret, but I doubt other people would. Or… maybe he knew my type of person. You don't have to bribe the shyer ones with the same amount. But along with that, by the way I was dressed, I think he could tell my social class too. My brown gloved hand went out to him. If I figured this out right, maybe I could get more out of him too, "Two dollars. I'm loyal to friends. I made a promise with them too. Another dollar, I'll brake their promise." I lied. I hardly knew the faggots, but he didn't know that. He knew I was new around the school, but he didn't know for how long. Plus, he's the one who said that I was friends with the Jew.

His mouth stretched across his face and his lips uncovered those pearly whites again. He licked his thumb and pulled two more dollars out, "I like your style," He left the sentence hanging. Oh wait! He was waiting for my name.

"Kenny," I started. Just to be sure, I added my last name with it, "Kenny McCormick." My arm was still out stretched, paused for my money. I got out lucky. He was going to give me another dollar with it. A fucking tip for lying my way out of that one.

The money was placed into his palm and shook my hand with it. Once it left, the money remained with me. He closed his wallet between his index finger and thumb, making a soft pat noise and slid it back into his pocket, "You shouldn't give me your last name without my warning. I could look you up and cut your mom's pretty little throat." He let an evil laugh vibrate from his throat.

I stood up and looked over the three dollars I just earned. I looked over my shoulder and pouted my lips, "I don't have a mom." I took my leave. I knew he wouldn't follow after a comment like that. I indirectly lied. I consider my mom dead for leaving me. My real mom.

-

My first day and I meet three people already? I'm surprised actually. It usually takes me awhile to even communicate with them. But, to tell the truth, I wouldn't consider any of them 'friends' yet. Maybe, acquaintances. People who can help me with homework or something. That, or if I need to know my way around the place. But I usually wing it and end up in the place I want to be anyways. It's not like South Park High is incredibly big either.

Thinking of big… Was it smart to lie like that to that Cartman guy? Not only that, but give out my last name? I better steer clear of him and not get in his way. If he finds out my lies it could probably mean getting the crap beat out me.

I made my way home. As I thought. Dad was on the couch. I walked inside and set my book bag in the doorway. I looked up at him and spoke out, "Should I start unpacking, sir?" I watched him for a second.

He didn't respond that fast, but he soon gave me a look. He gave the boxes the same dizzy look. He sat up straight now and looked at me again, "Ya know what, boy? Leave 'em." He had a full blown redneck sounding voice. I admit, I'm guilty of it a little bit too, but his is horrible. He went on, "I have a surprise tomorrow. Go out 'n do somethin'." He laid back down and drank his beer.

I knew my cue. That meant leave him alone and let him drink himself to sleep. Before I turned to get myself out, the Wheel of Fortune music started up. I looked down at the ground, "So damn predictable…" I mumbled. He didn't hear me. I sprinted out the door.

-

The other side of town was nice. People are friendly. Obviously, not to me. They don't know me. But they seem really happy. A life like that would be nice.

I smiled and lifted a box of cigarettes to my mouth, taking one out between my lips. I lit up and was ready to go. A family looked over at me. The parents gave me a disgusted look. Yep. I know. I'm dirty, right? Doesn't surprise me. Because, well, I am what I am.

I had three dollars in my pocket. What was I going to do with it? I was kind of hungry. I knew dad wasn't gunna get his ass off the couch anytime soon. I walked until I hit the nearest gas station. A dirty little one at that. I didn't expect much from a nowhere town like this though. So, I could care less.

I dropped the cigarette butt on the ground and stepped on it before walking into the store. The door was creaky and there was a little gold bell over it. Jingling every time someone would open it. I never knew the reason for that.

I looked slowly down the isles. I had all day. So, why not? It had to be at least the fifth time the bell rang before I heard a voice I remembered. I hid myself as good as possible without making it look like I was.

He swore at the lady at the counter and was on his way through the small store.

I didn't like the look of the lady either. She was pretty out there. Old, bleach blonde hair, heavy make-up, and to top it all off. It was all purple. Crazy looking.

Cartman. He was standing in the same little isle as me. I didn't look his way. Just ignored him. If he didn't recognize me, it was all good. I mean, how many faces can you know in that school? He picked up a bag of cheesy poofs and walked away. His foot went down for a final step before twisting around again. …Oh shit! "Kenny McCormick, right?" He pointed out.

My head turned to him in defeat, "Yeah." I gave him an exhausted look under my hood with the voice to match. I didn't want to deal with anyone right now. I sure didn't want to deal with him either.

His face went blank, then to pissed. "It sounds like you're not exactly happy to see me," He said, as his large hands popped the bag, causes small snacks to fly out and falling to the ground. He eyed the cashier, who was now eying him. He won the starring contest and the lady did nothing about his action. His attention went back to me as he dropped the bag and folded his arms, "You have a problem with me? If you do, say it now!"

I stepped back, but tried not to show any signs of fear (try is the big word here). I didn't want him killing me, but the same time I don't want him addressing me in public. Or ever in that fact. He was a good for nothing bully. I took another step back and chose not to say anything else. I knew that was probably for the best.

He grabbed me by the strings of my hood and slowly pulled me in closer. He looked down at me as I stood perfectly still for him. He reached forward and touched a small strand of hair that was poking out of my hood. He looked at it for a second, as if it were some hard math problem or something. His hands opened, letting me free, for the minute at least. He still had his bitter face. He nodded couple times before saying something else, "You're a lucky little bastard." He creaked his knuckles. Lucky? Lucky? Was he nuts? He gave me this serious face and got up close to my face, "Do you know who Hitler is?"

I kind of looked at him as if it were a trick question. What did him killing me and Hitler come together? I tried to answer the best I could, "A guy with a mustache who killed all the Jews?" I shrugged, unsure. That was the only Hitler I've ever known about.

He was still serious, "He was a leader! Yes, he killed all the Jews, but he did it to save the Pilgrims. He started the Vietnam war because the Indians wanted to travel to the Middle East. They wanted their Wahn Tahn soup. But Gangus Kong wouldn't let them. He's like, 'Noooo, I want the Wahn Tahn soup all to myself.' He bombed America and killed all the Indians." …Okay. Besides that he was a leader, nothing else made sense.

I didn't want to start anything so I just nodded. Maybe he should take some notes in History class. I might help a lot.

Oh, but he wasn't done. "Do you know why Hitler hated the Jews? Huh?!" He pulled me in closer, scaring me out of my mind. I think this guy needed his A.D.D. medicine.

I shrugged, trying to struggle out of his grip without him noticing. I got free a little bit.

But he pulled me back in, "Jesus! The Jews killed Jesus! Hitler wanted revenge! The Jews didn't believe in Jesus and killed him! Hitler's a freaking God! He should have been named the new Jesus! …but no! The Middle East is a traitor! They changed the History books! They made him look like the bad guy! Hitler was saving us all! He was a God sent to Earth! He wanted to kill off all the Jews before they killed him! Survival for the fittest! Survival, Kenny." He said all of this with a straight face. Was he serious? I think he watches too much TV. I'm serious.

"Okay, sure," I didn't want to tell him off, or say that he was wrong (even if he was).

He wasn't done? "He was going to save us all! We would have all lived in peace. You're one of the lucky ones. He looked up to people like you," People… like me? "Blonde hair, blue eyes, Caucasian. Perfect. A perfect human being. You wouldn't have to worry about anything. He could have been your God. Think about it." His face got angry now. His fingers dug into my coat and lifted me up off the ground. He was inches away from my face, "But do you know what he did to his perfect population when they associated with Goddamn Jews!?"

I breathed hard. I admit at this point. I was scared.

"No?" He answered for me and went on explaining anyways, "He'd stuff your good-for-nothing ass on a train and send you to a concentration camp! They'll torture you first! Torture you so much, they watch and laugh as you try to kill yourself!" He even laughed at that.

"Everyone knows you're full of bull," The ginger guy from before said as he shoved a blue Gatorade up to the cashier. He folded his arms and watched us, "Don't believe a word he says." He was talking to me now.

Cartman's hands were off me now. I was grateful for that. Did he really think I was buying anything the big guy was saying? I couldn't have been that good of a liar.

"That's a comment I'd expect from a Jew like you, Kyle," His attention was off me, and he started to walk towards the Jew.

Kyle paid for his drink and took a sip. He just shook his head and gave me a look, "Come on, Kenny. Before Cartman gets too hungry and eats the store." He went to the door and sucked down another mouthful of blueberry energy drink. The bell rang once, but he stood in the doorway.

I just stood there. I thought about this for a second. If I get on Cartman's good side… I could get a lot of shit off of him. Probably more than the three singles that were crumpled up in my pant's pocket. The guy is bright, I'll give him that. But he also has a big head (not literally, even if it is true) and loose with his money. "Remember the Alamo!" Yeah, say something really random about History. I could believe his 'bull,' as long as I got something for it.

Kyle just rolled his eyes and walked out, "Not another one." The bell rang again.

Cartman looked over to me. Eyes wide, but a smile on his face. He was impressed that I turned down Kyle's offer and stuck with him. His eyelids covered his green eyes halfway now, with his smirk growing. He took out his wallet and slid something into my back pocket, "Hitler would be proud." He turned and walked out the store, "Later, Kenny McCormick." Jingle. He was gone too.

I wondered if that was something to be happy about. It kind of confused me that someone actually remembered my name. Made me feel like I wasn't another Kenny out there. I slid my hand into my back pocket and pulled out a twenty. A cheerful look swept across my face. I could praise that bastard Hitler's name, as long as it gave me a dollar a day.

-

I sipped on a little juice box on the way home. I kind of got side tracked on the way there though. I heard a noise in one of the small alleyways. When I went to go check it out, I found a little puppy.

The leash was tied tight onto a steel gate, blocking the other side of the street.

I walked over to it and pet it on it's head. It was cute.

The small dog whined at first, crawled toward me after seeing I wasn't a threat. It looked dirty, cold, and hurt. Abandoned. I noticed it's left eye had a scar on it, that eye looked diolated too. I think he was blind on one side. I didn't want to think about what had happened to it.

I unhooked the leash from it's collar and looked at the little gold tag. It had the word 'Sprinkles' on it. There was no address. Whoever left it, didn't want it back.

It crawled into my arms and I picked it up. Small and scared. It started shaking.

I brought the dog home, I wasn't going to leave it there. If there's something I understand, it's being left behind.


	2. Temper Temper

Chapter One: Temper Temper

When I got home, I gave the little runt a scrub down. Bath. Nasty. Left the tub stained brown. Not like it wasn't already that color when I got started with it.

I tried to stay away from the cuts and scars on the little guy (yeah, I checked). He didn't really seem to mind. Probably a relief and use to the bruises.

I looked up my bare arms. I guess, I could relate.

It whined as I picked him up out of the bath tube. He looked like a wet rat. It was actually pretty funny. I wrapped him in a towel and held him in my arms, making a quiet _Sh…_ noise.

He seemed to relax him because his breaths steadied and eyes closed. He had fallen asleep in my arms. He probably thought I could protect him. Help him from all the bad things.

Wrong. Completely. It's not like I can go without telling a lie to someone's face. Lie, hurt, and betray. When will I ever learn my lesson?

I couldn't let my dad find out about this. I would just hide him in my room or something. Then again, maybe not. I could let him sleep here and let him go free tomorrow morning before school and see if he returns to me afterwards. If not, someone else could take him in. Someone who has a little bit more to offer than me.

I thought about the dog's name. _Sprinkles._ Sounds like a little girl named the poor thing, not knowing it was a dude. Sounds so fruity. But for some reason, it fit so perfect. Stupid, but original. Sometimes we need variety. At least he'll know he's not named after the many other dogs. Like, fluffy, scruffy, or something else that ends with an uffy. At least he's not as gay as Stan's dog.

I decided to bring him to my room and start on my homework since the house was now quiet. I'm semi-thankful for mom not being here right now because it would be a word battlefield until at least ten o'clock. It was around six now.

I placed the dog onto my bed and watched him curl up, into my pillow. I didn't mind. I let him make himself home.

I smiled. Wouldn't it be nice if I could keep him? Before I could dig a Physics book out of my schoolbag, the doorbell rang. I stood up and walked down the small hallway that lead to the living room. I looked at my dad.

Passed out. The TV in static now.

I opened the door and let myself walk out, closing it behind me. I didn't want anyone to come in. I didn't want him awake. But when I looked up, I almost backed straight through the door.

"What are you trying to pull, dude?" It was that Kyle kid. He didn't look glad to see me either. For obvious reasons, I knew why, "I'm telling you now. Whatever you're thinking, don't get involved with Cartman."

My eyes stared at him, kind of bored. "Sorry, but are you my mother?" I asked sarcastically. I knew he wasn't my mom. Duh.

"No, I'm serious. Look, I forgive you for what happened. I understand Cartman is a manipulative asshole," He said this as if he were some kind of college professor trying to explain a lesson plan to a monkey. His palms faced each other, parallel from each other, motioning it as if he were fitting something into place, "I'm just warning you, don't get involved with him. You'll regret it and no one will let you live it down."

Who was he trying to prove? I mean, I knew what I was doing. No matter how manipulative he is, I think I can handle anything he'll throw at me. I can sort of see what he's thinking. But why was he pushing this? "How do you know?"

He stared at me for a good twenty seconds before answering, "Let's just say, I know first hand." He turned his back to me and took his steps towards the driveway. He stopped halfway only to turn back the way he had been facing before, "He may look stupid, but he knows what he's doing." He shivered after that and brought his collar up a bit more, warming his neck from the cold, "Find me if you need anything, okay? See ya." He waved me off for the second time today.

I wondered what that was about. I didn't want to stop him and ask either. Maybe I should be careful. There's probably a logical reason why this Cartman guy controls almost all the school. But for me. Too bad I'd do anything for money. I'll ride this thing as long as I can. I'll get off when it gets too dangerous. I hope I knew when that was.

I went back in and tried to start my Physics. I read over the problems for about a half hour before I gave up and closed the book. So, my back hit the bed and chose to take a quick nap. I might even sleep until the morning.

I blacked out.

-

I shifted a bit in my sleep, until I had a weird feeling. I couldn't fall back to sleep. I laid limp for a second before wrestling with my eyelids to open. I noticed I was staring into emerald green eyes. They were kind of pretty. I let a tired noise escape my lips before sitting up.

"Good morning," It was a voice from a good for nothing son-of-a-bitch. I had just got done thinking, or more so, dreaming about the bastard. He was just chilling there, leaning over with those large fingers pressed against the mattress of my bed.

My first instinct when he says 'morning.' I look over at the clock. Eleven o'clock. It was dark out. It had to be PM. I looked at the body leaning over me. "Cartman?" I asked out, a dumb thing to say since there wasn't anyone in the damn school who looked like him (not that would break into my house anyway). "What the Hell are you doing here?" I rolled to my side, sliding my eyes back closed on accident. They fluttered back opened, trying to stay awake for what ridiculous comment he was about to give me.

One hand lifted off my bed and rubbed the skin under his lip, as if thinking, "Yeah, about that." He gave an evil smile and shrugged, "Well, if you woke up sooner, maybe I wouldn't have to open the door for myself." His eyes wandered around the room, "What a dump!"

I got myself to sit up, almost knocking heads with him. I gave him a pissed look even if I agreed with him on the last part (he didn't have to point out the obvious). "What do you want?" I asked, my voice and my anger rising.

He gave off a playful smile and said, "Chill hoe, it's not like I'm here to kill you." Once he saw I wasn't joking around, he relaxed his facial muscles and handed me a paper. He was ready to talk business.

I ripped the paper out of his hands and began reading it over. It was an English assignment. A presentation. The due date was tomorrow. Was he asking me what I thought he was asking me? "What's this?"

"Look, I don't need anything perfect. I just need something written down on a piece of paper and given to me by tomorrow. I'll give you a dollar," He looked at me with a pleading face. I could see right through it. I knew I couldn't have been the first person he went to. If I was, it was only because he could pay me less for the same amount of work done.

I watched that pathetic face, then down at the paper. I didn't want to. I was tired. I was done for a day. My first day of school was over, so I can wake up tomorrow and go back there. But now I have to write some paper God knows how long it would take. My eyes went back to him. I couldn't say _NO! _to that face. I couldn't exactly say yes either, "Cartman…" I whined out, obviously ready for bed and not an assignment.

"Please?" He chimed again. This time on his knees with his hands connected together by his fingers, as if he were praying. He could pull off a sad face very well. I'd give him that much credit. "Two," He added almost instantly after seeing me not budge, "Two, brand new, dollar bills. Not quarters. No cheep change. But cold hard dollars."

My hand went to my face, not wanting this at all. Out of all the people, why me? Maybe I should have left with Kyle instead. Then again, I wouldn't have found that dog. I wouldn't have gotten that twenty. I wouldn't have noticed peace in my own home. I didn't say anything. My hand reached over to pet Sprinkles' scared ear. I didn't look at him this time. I had enough money to last a few weeks now.

"Please? Please, Kenny, please?" He sat there on the ground, on his knees. Like I were a God and he were praying to me. Once he saw I wouldn't move or say anything, he stood up a little disappointed. That was fake too. I could tell this was all some stupid act. He was only thinking of number one. Himself. Whatever would benefit him. He pointed a yellow gloved hand my way, "Fine, Kenny! Be that way! I thought we were friends. I guess not. I know who you really are. Selfish! You have no feelings. All you do is care about yourself!" Right back at you big guy. Only, I'm not acting these thoughts. They're real. You're not.

I looked down at my empty palm. Was I getting sucked into this mess farther than I needed to. Over a few bucks. I had gotten on. Was it time to get off now? I had just started.

It wasn't long until he was back on his knees after his fake guilt trip was over. "Please! I'll give you five! No, ten! Just come on! Please!?" He was getting a little desperate, huh? Either that or he was looking for dramatic. Either way, he was still pulling it off.

I shook my head and looked down at him. He was fake. He wasn't even real. I could look right past that face, and see the same evil one who was a greedy asshole with the hunger for power (well, that's my impression on him from the day). I slowly gave in. I sucked it up and gave into my own greed. I wanted money. Not any money. Cartman's filthy rich money. The money I could keep getting and getting because the bastard wanted so much from other's.

I stretched my hand out, "Ten… and I'll have it done in a hour, probably less. Only if you stay and take it home tonight. I don't want to go looking for you tomorrow morning." That, and I was planning on avoiding him tomorrow. This would be my last time I get bribed by him. I swear.

-

I finished around twelve. It was some paper about world problems. It wasn't my grade, so I made a bunch of stuff up about 'how abortion is bad.' Which had nothing to with any of it. Obviously, since I don't have any knowledge of the subject _at all._

I creaked my knuckles after dropping the pen onto the notebook. I didn't bother to re-read the thing. I think I'll leave that to lazy ass.

I randomly laughed to myself. Today, at P.E., I remembered a kid got kicked in the balls by Cartman and went home right after. Cartman and I aren't in the same 'P.E. class,' but he has it at the same time and same place. Retarded, huh? I remember seeing him at lunch too, but I didn't go sit at his table since it was full. Everyone wants to sit with him. Depressing, huh? Not that it bothers me. I'm ignoring him for here on out anyways.

I looked over to him now. Sleeping. Sound asleep, with only his breaths coming from deep inside his slow motioning chest. His still eyelids covered his bright green eyes, having his thick eyebrow lay peacefully higher, giving an innocent look to his face. Half of his aqua hat was removed from his head, giving me sight of his hair color. A medium brown color. This made me wonder… _Can even the evilest people on the planet look so honest when they shut their eyes and rest?_

I looked down at the paper now, just to get a view of something other than him. This wasn't some kind of friendship. This was run only by selfishness. I scratch his back if he scratches mine (example, obviously). I was about to tear the essay apart. I wanted to. I wanted to end this now. Money was addicting. Once you get some you want more. Just like any drug. Like cigarettes. Like alcohol. Like sex. No wonder everything's gone to Hell. No wonder there's so many screw ups in the world. Too bad I was one of them. I could quit anything and everything, except the things I hated most.

I stood, walking as my bare feet creaked at the loose floorboards under the brown shaded carpet. I dropped the essay and watched it flutter down.

Down. Swing up. Swing down. Side. To side. Fall. Land.

Land right onto the rising and falling chest of the boy in my room. The school's number one bully.

I turned the lights off. It was time to sleep. Dream off this and wake up to the next Hell of a day.

-

My ear drums ached and felt a drilling pain, hearing the alarm go off from my clock. The worst noise in the world. I wanted to sleep longer. About another hour, or ten.

Ten? Speaking of ten. My hand reached under my pillow and pulled out a thick rectangular paper. A ten dollar bill.

My eyes went crazy, looking from every corner of my room. Cartman was gone. He must have left in the middle of the night. I looked down with a sad look, giving Mr. Hamilton a hurting grimace. It wasn't like I cared. I did my half of the deal. He did his. I practically told him to leave after I was done too. My eyes searched my room, paranoid that maybe he'd be there still. Unfortunately, no. But like I said, it's not like I cared.

-

The day went by so slow. It felt like everything around me was on fast-forward, and I was stuck at less than normal speed. My feet felt heavy, kind of like if there were big blocks of cement attached to them. I met up with Kyle during a passing period. I lost count. Between the naps in each class, I forgot what period I was coming from and going to. He mentioned something about still being my friend and not telling Stan about anything. He didn't give me much interest so I zoned the rest out.

Zero… One… Two… Was it the end of the day yet? I've been at school for three hours already and accomplished nothing, but wanting to leave school grounds and smoke. I was anything, but happy at this point. Aggravated and my head was pounding. It felt like my skull was hammering at my brain for no reason at all. Just pounding and throbbing, just because it could. Laughing because I was in pain. The next person who crosses me with a smart ass move, I'd take my pain out on them. Spit, then laugh at their face.

Third period… I remembered this one. Cartman.

"Kenny! Kenny!" His voice screamed across the crowd of people.

Across them, through my ear, beating my brain with a baseball bat. I turned, staring hard. What could _he _possibly want _now. _If it's another assignment, fuck that. I didn't have the time or patience for it right now. Not today.

The kids saw the big guy coming. Have you ever seen those old religious movies where the guy makes the water move and become a path to God-know-where? It was just like that. He screamed my name and every kid around us stopped. They moved to the side, leaving me right in the middle of the path.

He shouted my name one last time, as if I didn't hear the last three times. He walked casually passed the walls of people.

Literally, the walls had ears… and mouths. They spoke out jealousy.

'_Why does he want to talk to that loser?'_

'_Is this some kind of stupid joke?'_

'_I wish he called out my name.'_

'_Who is that piece of trailer trash?'_

Once I saw him reach me finally, after reaching his hand out for people to touch him (like a Goddamn celebrity). He made me sick. Just look at him. Controlling everyone's lives. Holding everyone's opinions and differences captive of themselves. A leader who doesn't give. His only job is to receive. I'll say it again, he makes me sick.

My blonde eyebrows went down, feeling pressure on them as I tried to look up at the bastard himself. I imagined feeling chips of my own teeth being scrapped off from them grinding onto one another. With my fists, made my knuckles turn pale white. Having the feel if I could press together a little harder, the bone would burst out of my skin, and poof. No fingers. But that was my mind. No one seemed to noticed I was more pissed than a huge woman on her period.

Cartman had went on about a conversation. Laughing, talking. Talking to nothing, but to himself.

I heard nothing but a loud ringing sound. Drowning out every word. I could only see his lips move. The background went black. Even if every eye was on us, it felt like none were. They were zombies. Zombies to this asshole. Front and center. There were more kids than him. They could take him down. Bring them lower than their level.

My arm started to rise up. It seemed the more he talked to himself, the more I wanted to kill him. That much power is a threat. That much power is sick. My right shoulder leaned back a little, holding my fist into the air now. It was one quick, easy movement. Slingshot. Hit it's target. _BAM!_

The walls started talking again…

'_Holy crap…! He's dead!'_

'_Oh no! Is he alright!?'_

'_How dare someone do that!'_

'_Is this guy on something?'_

The walls came pummeling down on us. Cartman's side a lot more peaceful than mine. My side people shoved, stared, and shouted. His cried, cared, and concerned.

Once the bastard stood again, the waves moved away, but now in a circle.

His thick eyebrows arched downward and his eyes opened to an enormous rate. His lip was split down the middle and the thick crimson liquid only began to ooze out it. His tongue licked at it, probably tasting the blood, and understanding the damage. Yeah, he looked pissed. "What was _that _for!?"

I punched him, didn't I? It went so quick I hardly noticed. Not only was everything around me on fast-forward, but my actions were too. But my reactions came a little bit slower.

He watched as I didn't move a muscle. His large hand reached out and took me by the collar, "Huh?! Say something, worthless piece of shit!"

I didn't move. I thought about defending myself, but what would be the point? He'd get in his hits. I would just sit back and watch my own defeat.

Sure enough, after staying still, his fist flew right at my face.

The force was so much that I was actually pulled out of his grip and skidded across the tiled floor. I rubbed at my cheek. It felt like a muscle ache, but I knew better. A bruise would form there soon. I got to my feet, keeping eye contact with him.

After our first hits were done, the kids around us looked at each other. As they saw me rise to my feet, they could tell a fight had started. The walls that use to whisper now shouted, over and over.

'_Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!'_

You'd think something like a bunch of people screaming the same word over and over again would kill my headache even more. But, no. I kind of liked it. I kind of liked taking the blow from Cartman's gigantic fist. At least I got some blood. It made me feel stronger.

I went at him. Ran straight at the bastard held my arms out in front of me. My arms closed around his waist, hugging at the soft skin there, and surprisingly, ramming him right to the ground. I had just tackled, the biggest and most powerful guy in school, to the floor.

The circle broke a little as people suddenly shied away from where Cartman was now laying on his back. The shouts of the repetitive word went louder.

I placed myself onto his soft belly and pushed my legs down onto his arms. I leaned over him for a second. Only to come back up and throw both my fists rapidly at his face. I could only feel my hands start to become numb after having my knuckles dig into his cheeks, his nose, his teeth, his jaw, anywhere. Everywhere.

My knees had loosened and he kicked me off. He shouted out a couple curse words as he covered his face with his own palms. His breathing shook. His voice shook. His hands shook.

I landed on my side pretty hard. Not to hurt anything too bad though. I couldn't feel my hands. I held my fingers tightly into a fist seeing something moist and red instead of white. I wondered if I put enough pressure on it that the bone really _did_ break though. But I would have felt that, wouldn't I? My thoughts were cut short.

He was on top of me now. His eyes were wider and face completely red. Either from blood or blood rushing to his head.

Before he could get me into a good hold though, I struggled my way up.

He gave me a jab to the ribs, trying to hold me down.

I couldn't breath after he hit me, but instead of stopping for the air I needed, I swung my numb hand at his jaw. Once his mind was somewhere else, trying to register what hit him, I forced us down sideways.

We were both struggling on the floor. I grabbed his shirt and he grabbed mine. Our fingers slipped off as we were now suddenly dragged away from each other.

I was carried to my feet, where I forced myself forward, trying to get free. Teachers. I was about to kick the crap out of him too (So I thought).

Until I saw two deans on Cartman. Jesus, when that guy looses his temper, it's lost and never coming back.

-

Dean's office. Cartman got off the hook, but since I was the one who threw the first punch, I was in trouble. It made no difference anyways. Give me a vacation from this school. I was getting sick of it anyways. Even if it was my second day.

I sat with an impatient look on my face as this dean shuffled through files and papers. I looked around the room, looking at the random posters put up in it.

One had a monkey holding onto a branch. Big yellow words that said, _'Hang in there.'_

Another one with a person leaning against a wall. _"We all need someone to lean on."_

And who can forget the picture of the boy which read, _"If you don't have a dad, you're a bastard."_

I sunk lower into my seat hearing the sound of filing papers. After awhile, it got very annoying. I just wanted to get this over with and be sent home. Get this long lecture over with. But it never works that way, does it?

"Kenneth K. McCormick, right?" Obviously. Who did you think you were talking to? "I just got through looking at the records from your old school." He said he had just got done looking at it, yet he went through it again after he said it. "This isn't your first time you harassed a fellow student."

I leaned back in the rickety wooden chair. I shrugged once, "Yeah. Then again, I wouldn't say 'fellow.'" Why did grownups use the most retard language? To make themselves sound smarter?

He gave me a disappointed look, as if he were my parent or something. "It seems like your punishments haven't been improving your behavior." He paused and expected me to comment on that. After seeing I did nothing in response, he went back to his meaningless words, "At this school we believe in improvements. Maybe you haven't been pushed far enough." He folded his hands together and leaned forward, "Maybe we need to give you that extra push, because if you keep going on like you are now… There might not be a future."

One of my blonde eyebrows cocked up, not understanding his statement, "What kind of push?" Why couldn't teachers, deans, or whoever, give me this shit information in English?

"Juvenile Hall," He said simply.

"What!?" I could hear my voice ringing at my own ears. That's how loud I was. I stood up, paranoid. There was no way I was going there. "Why there!?" I questioned again.

"For physically assaulting a student," He said once again, in that simple tone.

My hands gripped his desk and pushed my face close to him, "You've got to be kidding me! Have you seen Cartman's records! Get those sons-of-bitches out! If I'm going down, I'm taking _him _with me!"

"Cartman?" He looked confused, then made a noise of realization, "You mean Eric. Yes, I've already checked his. His is clean." You have got to be kidding me! It was like the whole damn school was run by him!

He pointed out something else, "Well, there is one way to get out of it." He picked up a brochure and thumbed through it.

"Yeah?" I'm listening. Tell me, bastard.

"There's a Spring play," He handed me the folded piece of paper, "Try-outs start this Friday. People have been losing interest and need all the help you can get." His eyes went on me as he saw me take the paper, "I'm not saying you have to _act_ in it. Just help out. Maybe help with background scenery, curtain closer, or play a minor part. You will join each meeting after school. That will be your community service. But if you quit under any circumstance, or miss one meeting, I'll have the school security escort you straight to Juvy. Do I make myself clear?"

I looked down at the three fold paper. '_Cinderella?_' Cinder-fuckin'-ella? There was no way I was playing even a minor role in that shit. I'd help, duh. But there's no way anyone's taking me away to child butt fuckers. I was a screw up, but not that bad. I backed away a little, "Fine."

He gave me a smile, "Good. Room 202 is where you'll sign up. Good luck."

I left. Pissed. What kind of bull was this? It was no fair at all. But maybe after all of this is over, I won't have anything to do with that Cartman guy. Oops, my bad. I mean, Air-Rick (Eric).


	3. Home

Chapter Two: Home

After school, which totally sucked ass, I went to the stupid drama classroom for the signups. I felt like a complete retard and I didn't fit in with any of the faggots there.

You have the preppies (popular girls) and the plain fags (guys that wear sparkling lip gloss). I'm going to praise the day I get out of this. That, and swear never to go near that Cartman guy. Why do I have a feeling I should have listened to Kyle today? Or yesterday too? No, I like doing everything the hard way.

I opened the door to room _202_. Everyone just stared at me. They knew I didn't want to be here as much as I knew it. I didn't think they wanted me here either. I made a seat in the circle of chairs. I looked at each person. Why did it all of a sudden feel like a rehabilitation for alcoholism? Were we going to discuss our _feelings_ too? And share why each one of us are here?

I looked at the blonde kid sitting next to him. Defiantly a gay-tard. The sad thing was… I could see his eyeliner and light blue eye shadow. Where was I? I swore Hell wasn't this bad.

Another person caught my attention. Probably the _prettiest _and most popular of the girls. Dark hair, brown eyes, and make-up plastered all over her face. Girls like that I'd like to call _cake faces_ because they cake all that cover-up, eyeshadow, and their eye lashes just look like damn spiders when they're done.

I folded my arms and sunk into my chair, trying to make myself comfortable. I was going to be here awhile. I'm guessing I'd leave after Spring sometime. I wasn't going to fuck with Cartman after that. I knew not to piss that guy off.

The kid next to me gave a wave and spoke out first, "W-well, hello there," His voice sounded like he was around twelve-years-old. "M-my name's Butters, what's your name?" He gave a bright white smile.

I looked him over again. He wore a sweatshirt with a big picture of _Hello Kitty _on the front pocket, it was bright blue. His eyes were a really light greenish blue and his blonde hair was buzzed at the bottom, wearing the little hair that he _did _have on the top of his head, messy beyond all reasons. Was this kid serious?

"Kenny," I said a little quietly, not wanting everyone to hear. I could already tell half the kids in the group were looking up at me when I said it.

This time, the circle had mouths. Tones of anger.

'_Is that the guy who threatened Cartman?'_

'_What is he doing here?'_

'_Watch out for him. He'll kill you for no reason!'_

'_I heard they were going to lock him up for hurting Cartman!'_

"Oh!" His voice turned even more cheerful, "S-so, what are you trying-trying out for?" Does he have a stuttering problem?

"None," I licked my lips, tasting a bitter liquid. That was hidden. My head slanted lazily his way and my eyes met his, "I'm going to _help.**" **_I didn't mean for it to sound so sarcastic, but I don't think he could tell anyways.

"W-well, golly! That's real nice! We need m-more people to-to move props between scenes," He clapped his hands eagerly, with that childish smile.

"Sure, I'm a prop mover… or something then," I twisted my chair around so I was sitting on it backwards. My head began to hurt, so I rested it on the vertical part of it.

The dark haired girl stood up, popping her hip out to a side. Of course, she had to flick her long strands of black back behind her back before actually doing anything else, "Don't get too happy, Butters. I heard about him." She was talking about me when I was sitting right in front of her? "He fought Eric! He's a disgrace of a student and is obviously not taking this play seriously."

"Why don't you tell me that to my face?" My head tilted, wondering what that ugly purple hat was all about on her head. It looked like something an artist would wear if they were about to paint a damn picture. Well, I guess this is an art too. So, whatever. I continued, "I'm sorry, but if you actually look up to that asshole, you're truly blind of what kind of prick he actually is."

She placed her hand on her hip and made a small gasp noise, something like 'Oh my God. I can't believe you just said that.' "How dare you! Who do you think you are?" She pointed her boney little finger between my two eyes.

I smacked it away and stood up. I was taller than the bitch, so I could actually look down at her, "You want to start something? Because I don't mind breaking every bone in your face!" …Wait. We only have one bone in our face, don't we?

The little blonde got between us, sort of pushing me back (not doing a good job of it), but I stopped because this had nothing to do with him. "L-look, we're not gunna get anywhere if we fight. N-now, say sorry."

I looked at the girl's face. She had a thing for Cartman. It was written all over her. I was talking down about him, but she lost her bravery after I went onto a different subject. Herself. Who would have thought a little, popular girl, like her, would be chubby chasing?

She looked down a little ashamed, like she knew what I was thinking about her. I watched her flinch as I held my hand out.

I looked at her again, this time with a lighter stare. "Sorry," I said, stubbornly.

She took my hand and shook it, "Me too." Her eyes looked up at me, begging not to tell anyone she had a thing for the big guy.

My fingers went around hers and shook hers at the same time. My eyes softened more and I could feel the muscles in my face become less tense. Saying back, 'You're secret's safe with me.'

Her hand slipped away and gave me a respectful look as she made her way back to her seat.

I'm not exactly sure what happened there, but it was weird. Maybe she wasn't like her little popular posse sitting next to her now. Laughing at some random thing some Mike guy did in second period U.S. History.

I smiled her way. She shouldn't have known that I did this because of my hood, but she actually saw through it and she smiled back. My heart jumped through my ribcage. Could I actually have a thing for this chick?

-

The meeting went by pretty smooth. It seemed like, after that girl (whose name I found out was Wendy) made the ok of me being there, people started to talk to me. It was kind of weird talking to some of the boys though, but I think I could trust the Butters kid. Once I met everyone else, he seemed less gay.

I didn't get a part in the play, (thank God) but as I was told before, I could help move props on and off the set when needed to. It sounds a lot easier than going to Juvy. _Way_ easier.

-

Once I stepped foot outside, it felt awesome. I've been stuck in the school for way too long. It wasn't great weather out now, but it was something better than sitting in a plastic chair all day. Wondering how many Goddamn asses have been there before yours. Sometimes, you just have to not think of that.

I was tired. I slept too much and was over tired now. I don't know how that works, but you would think more you sleep the more awake you are. But it's never that simple.

I heard a jingling noise. I looked up to see what it was, when I saw the small puppy I found yesterday, coming my way. I let him go this morning, I didn't think he would actually be smart enough to find me again.

I kneeled down and called him over to me, "Sprinkles. Come on. Come here boy." I motioned my finger (hopefully) letting know to come.

Sure enough, once he heard the word _come _his ears went up and he began running to me. He stopped in front of me, wagging his tail. He was a cute little dog.

"What the Hell is _that_ thing?" And then, my day went down farther into the shit hole. I knew his voice. The guy I fought with earlier today.

I picked the dog up and into my arms, walking away from him as fast as I could.

"What? I don't get a 'Hi, how are you?'" He sounded like he was joking. I wasn't.

I turned my head a little, "Leave me alone." I didn't want anything else to do with him.

"Aw, come on," He walked behind me and stopping there, "Oh, and I heard that your part of the school play. Good for you." He laughed. I couldn't tell if he was acting or if it was sarcasm. It could have been a little bit of both.

Sprinkles' chest tightened and began to growl softly.

I didn't blame him. One look at the asshole and you know there's something up with him. I didn't look at him. I just stood there, feeling like a complete dumb ass. "It's your fault."

He grabbed my shoulder hard and pulled me around. His angry face was back on. I couldn't tell. Does he act mad too, or is he just bad with controlling his temper? "My fault!? You're the freak maniac who punches people that want to thank you!"

Sprinkles jumped out of my arms and ran away, fast. He didn't even look back.

I was taken by surprise when he actually touched me. The last thing I wanted was this right now, but how do you keep it cool when you're talking to the stupidest person in the world? "Thank me!?" I took a step forward, getting into his face, "Yeah, right! You don't bother people unless you need something!"

It was his turn to get into my face, "I was thanking you because you wrote a good fucking paper! I did the presentation and Wendy Testaburger actually said something to me, for once!" He took a couple breathes in. He had it in for that girl in the drama class? Wow. I never expected that.

What was that presentation about again? Abortion? Where the Hell did I find that subject. My face turned down, feeling even more like a dumb ass. Then again, he could be lying. My eyes searched his face. I couldn't tell anymore. I just turned away with disgust. Even if what he said was true, it wasn't going to fix anything.

After he saw I had lose, got his cockiness back, "Whatevah! If you wanna be mad, that's kewl! I hope you get the lead part of the play and you screw up! Screw up all three times! I'll be there all three nights watching you suck!" He let out a large mess of laughter, and it was all aimed at me.

I kept walking. I walked. I had enough of him. I seriously did. If I had to see his face everyday of my life, I think I'd take a gun, shove it into my mouth, and blast the bottom half of my brain, along with my throat, out.

Heh. The funny thing about that is it's so ironic. You'll se why in a second.

-

I got home, expecting to start unpacking our brown, cardboard boxes with all of our shit, and put it into our 'new' house. When I actually stepped foot onto my lawn, there was moving truck. My heart almost jumped like that time I smiled at the drama class bitch. Moving truck meant moving. Hopefully far away from this town. I ran to the door, not before looking over the _For Sale _sign. This was too good to be true! I started to believe maybe dad would do something right for once.

I couldn't even get to the door before dad called out to me. He was already in the car. This was his surprise he was talking about? Fuck yeah!

I ran over to the car and got into the passenger's seat. I didn't ask questions, I just wanted out. Even if I had to be stuck with my dad in this car for days before reaching a destination. It's be better than what I had to experience for the last day and a half.

Before we actually left, he talked about how he met some girl awhile back. Back when mom and him were still married. He gave me detail, that I personally would have rather he left out. Fucking her senseless and stuff (probably the cause of the divorce).

Did you know fucking was word they used a long time ago to call cow breeding? I heard that from someone at school. I wondered if that was true. Fuck equals cows fucking. As he explained all this shit (probably just talking to talk because he's drunk) I pictured my dad and some fat bitch as cows humping each other. I shivered and tried to think of something else. Nasty. Think about Ice cream, or puppies, or what a Chinese-black person would look like. Not _that_.

Once he told me that this chick lived in South Park, it really got my hopes down. No escaping this place, I guess. It could be worse.

He drove me there. To the richer side (I later found out there's a richer part) of this town. The houses were normal size. We came to a house in the middle of the block.

I didn't get out until I saw my dad did. This is where I was going to live now? I actually had a good feeling about this. I've never lived in a house so… _big _(28201)I followed to the door, hearing my dad's fist hit the door. I wondered what this woman would look like.

_Knock. Knock. Knock._

"Coming," I sweet voice said from inside. The door opened and this tall lady answered. She had long brown hair tied into a bun, a pretty face, and clothes to match any kind of house wife. I kind of felt sorry for her that she was seeing my dad. "Hello," She smiled towards both of us. She came to me first and placed her hand onto my head, "Oh, is this your son? He's very handsome." My mom before never said that to me, "Oh, and he's about the same age of my son, Eric." She let out a light laughter and spoke again, "How rude of me. My name is LeAnn."

My dad forced his way into the conversation, "But you will call her mom. Got that, boy?"

How could I argue with that? I wouldn't mind having this lady as my mom. I nodded and said, "Yes, sir."

She moved back and opened the door all the way, "Here come in and out of the cold. I'll make some hot cocoa." Once we made our way inside, she shut the door. She spoke to me now, "If you'd like, Kenny. You can go upstairs to Eric's room and get acquainted."

I froze for a second.

_Eric._

It couldn't be the same guy. This lady is way too nice. Plus, Eric is a common name too. It wasn't like he was the only one in that school… right?

I made my way up the stairs. I heard sounds of a videogame coming from one of the rooms. I was guessing that was it. I went to it and put my hand over the door knob. I was holding onto it with my strength. I could only hear my voice pounding in my head.

'_Oh God, please. Please be someone else. I don't care if it's a retard. I wouldn't care if that Butters kid was on the other side. I would even be happy seeing a Chinese black person on the other side. Oh, please. Oh God, please!'_

The door opened without me even adding pressure. That person on the other side opened it.

I took a step back and my lips parted just enough to whisper, "You." I took a couple more steps back. I wanted to vomit all over the floor. Why? Why the Hell does this happen. Irony!

That familiar smirk was on his face. Eric. It was… It was Eric Cartman. Medium brown hair, green eyes, large hands, thick body, and a smile that kills. "Me," He mocked, almost laughing under his breath.

I sat on the ground and let my head hang from my shoulders. Great. Just great. There was nothing wrong with the lady downstairs. She had to be the richest, single woman, closest to a bar. …And here. I'm stuck with this asshole.

"Don't get too use to it. My mom can't keep a guy for more than a week," His face went serious and kneeled down by me, "Name, LeAnn Cartman. Occupation, slut, prostitute, hoer! Whatever you want to call her!" He smirked now, "How the Hell do you think a single _house wife _mother can afford a nice home? She takes care of sick perverts, like your dad, for money."

He was pissing me off now. I got into his face, "I guess, she went hoeing around in a bad bar that day! My dad has _shit _for money! Only enough to lower his nerves with cases of beer, alcohol, and a ten pack of cigarettes! And if I know my dad, he would rather get drunk off his ass than fuck your mom's dried up pussy!"

Before I knew it, I was against the wall. His arms blocking any air, going in or out of me. This close to him, you can actually see the small red veins in his eyes. Pressure from holding his brow down and looking through them. That's probably the cause of it.

My fingers stabbed at the skin of his arm and lowered it away from me. I laughed once, "This is stupid. We just told each other how bad out parents are and we go on and defend them." A smile actually formed on my face… inside Cartman's house, "You don't have a dad. I can guess why." I laughed some more. I thought that was so fucking hilarious.

He backed away a little, seeming like I hurt a small portion of his pride. His face changed. Then, went back to it was before, "Yeah? So? What happened to your mom?"

"Divorced," My head rested on the wall, "Took my brother and ran, but now that I'm older, I figured out she wasn't my real mom." I laughed once again for the heck of it. Cartman's face looked so damn stupid (As he tried to figure out what I was saying).

"What makes you say that?" He was actually paying attention to something other than himself. I wondered if he does that often.

"The situation. She fought for my brother and won. She practically gave me to dad. Besides all that, my mom was a red head and my dad's brunette." My hand lifted up and pulled a small strand of hair out of my hood, "I'm blonde. Plus, I've never seen any resemblance between mom and me. My _parents _didn't like the way I looked. They hated my face," I shrugged, "Probably because it reminded them about the little skank my dad slept with."

It was quiet. Silence. The only thing I could really hear was the heat blowing through the vents. I said that out loud, didn't I? I could laugh again, but this time for me being the idiot. I stood up and walked into his room now. Or should I say, _our_ room now.

-

We spent the rest of that day sitting around. Him, playing videogames. Me, Playboy.

I've been reading (technically, looking) those things ever since me and some other guy found them in the garbage can at the nearest gas station. Got thrown away because of last month's issue. Some lazy ass didn't do their job and get rid of them properly. I was about ten when I found them. I made some money by selling them and corrupting the _poor, innocent _minds of students around me. No one ever found me or ever blamed it on me though. It wasn't like they knew who I was.

I got real close with the gas station workers. Well, only the irresponsible ones. They let me have all the shit that expired. The magazines, candy, cigarettes, and maybe, if get lucky, I'd get some food out of it. They wouldn't get in trouble, since it wasn't exactly stealing if they were throwing it away anyways, right? As long as their asses weren't on the line, they were fine.

After awhile, reading this stuff seems natural. Like a girl reading a fucking Seventeen magazine wondering how to 'remove her pimple faster,' 'loose fifty pounds in two days,' and 'make a guy fall for you.' It was really interesting at first, but you start to see the same thing over and over again. Usually a big breasted girl pleasuring herself, or having another girl do it for her. That, or just sitting there, looking 'sexy.' To me, the same old shit. I probably should have waited until I read these things, it's boring now.

Same. Same. Same. I wonder if the people who make these just post a different head onto pictures they've already put into the last months'. There are only so many ways a woman can sit, stand, or lay down.

Cartman's voice came to me, loosing my trail of thought, "You remind me of Clyde." He didn't really look at me, he was focused on his game. He must have looked over before.

Who was Clyde? Too bad I didn't really care enough to really ask. I just went on with what I was doing.

Clyde? That name sounded a little familiar though. Oh, I know. Pac man! That old game where the circle thing has to eat all the little circle things while the ghosts come after you. It was Pinky, Blinky, Inky, and Clyde. The orange little ghost no one liked because his name didn't fit in with the others.

After awhile, we went to sleep.

-

We could hear pounding (I could at least). The middle of the night. Screaming now… Oh God. That made me think about cows now.

I shifted to my side and put a pillow over my head. Cartman's bed was huge. Not to mention, his room. He had a bathroom in it too. His mom gave him everything he wanted. This was the master bedroom and the room across the hall… I don't know what you call those. Normal rooms?

The noises were coming from there.

It was a long night.

-

Me and Cartman didn't communicate the next morning. I was too tired for it, and he looked like he was too.

The only thing he really said to me was, "How do you get to school, Kenny?" He wouldn't have asked me anything. Knowing him, he would probably go to his mom. From the looks of it, he's been driven to school by his mom all the time. But said mom was probably naked in the room with the door locked, laying next to some strange naked man, who was the father of said boy standing in front of him.

I kind of felt bad about that. Then again, I felt bad for myself. I found that my dad was sleeping with a hooker. But then again, (again), I hope he got AIDS and dies. I said back, "The bus." I took my book bag and put it over my shoulder and headed for the door.

He followed behind me and cursed quietly.

-

As the bus pulled up and I got on. I saw there were no seats left. I hated that. Was I going to have to sit on the floor again? I felt a push.

Cartman walked passed me looking over the seats carefully. He stopped at a seat in the middle on the left hand side. He looked down at the two random boys sitting there.

They just looked back up at him.

His eyes grew wide and pointed at them, "Are you waiting until fucking Christmas!? Get out of my seat, Goddamn it!!"

The two boys looked scared all of a sudden and cleared the way for him.

He sat down, not the least bit happy. He folded his arms and press his head against the bus window. He mumbled something, probably more swear words.

I looked around for my seat now. It wouldn't be that easy for me. I didn't want to sit with Cartman because he was already mad. …But the thing was, there weren't any seats left. I hated that feeling. I made my way towards the back.

As I walked by, Cartman tugged the sleeve of my jacket. Once he got my attention, he watched me, giving a really hard look. "There's room for both of us, you stupid shit! Now, sit down!" He moved over to prove his point.

I didn't argue with him and before I knew it, I was sitting down. I looked around at all the people.

They all were looking at me.

'_That's the kid who beat up Cartman!'_

'_Did you see poor Cartman's eye?'_

'_He really has some nerve sitting next to him!'_

'_Let's kill him!'_

The Jew was right. I shouldn't have gotten involved with him.

-

Somehow, after first period, that Butters kid found me.

Bright smile, excited face. He even ran over to me, waving the whole way. I was kind of jealous. I wondered how it was to not worry about anything. He stopped in front of me, taking in small breathes before speaking, "G-Guess what!? Y-you'll never believe it!"

I watched him a little confused about why he would even talk to me before after school drama. No one else did, "Yeah? Try me."

"I got the part! I got the part!" He practically jumped up and down. He calmed a little and told me why he was so happy, "I'm g-gunna play the prince i-in Cinderella! Is-isn't it great! I n-never played a major r-role before!" He fiddled his fingers around and blushed slightly.

"Um… congratulations?" I knew if I had that part, I don't know what I'd do. Anything, _but_ that part.

He came closer and whispered into my ear, "B-but Wendy got the role o-of Cinderella. O-oh geez…" He backed away now, "I-I don't think I can r-run line with her. She's a lot more talented than m-me."

I shrugged once shoulder, "You'll get better." I tried to sound positive, but I've never really talked about _roles _in a _play _before.

He put his hands on my shoulders, "O-oh please, Kenny! C-can you run lines w-with me?! I n-need to get really good b-before…"

I cut him off. Was he asking me a favor? "What? No, dude. You're suppose to practice with _her_ so you can get better. Not get better before running them with her. There'd be no point in that!"

He looked down at the ground, "O-oh, okay…" He didn't seem to happy about my answer.

I smacked my forehead and let it drag down my face, "Fine, give me your address."

His face brightened up again, "Aw, thank ya, Kenny!" He took a _Hello Kitty _pen out of his _Hello Kitty _pencil case. He took my hand and wrote his address on the palm of my hand. He put it away and smiled at me again, "Th-thank you so much!" He was off now.

I wondered if I just made a huge mistake.


	4. Unwanted

Chapter Three: Unwanted

Quit some time has passed. Maybe a couple weeks until I started getting the hang of the whole school thing. Now, that I've made a friendship with Wendy, people around me start to back off. I've been going to that after school drama class, and finally figured out the schedule. Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. Every other day. Which isn't too bad.

The only thing is, I keep getting those damn songs stuck in my head and I know practically all the lines of the two major roles. I've been helping Butters _and _Wendy after school. It makes no sense at all why they don't study together.

I go to their houses straight from school. I've made a schedule with them too. I got to Butters' Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays. Then, Wendy Mondays, Fridays, and Saturdays. Leaving me only one day to relax. I can't complain that much though. They're both really smart and have been helping me with homework.

The thing that gets me, is that they talk about Cartman all the time! He's so _great, amazing, _and _funny._ And I can't see that… how? There's nothing great about him. He's just like everyone else, except he bosses everyone around. I don't know about Butters, but personally, I think Wendy and Cartman should hook up and stop complaining. They've been voted most popular in the yearbook for two years. I don't know what's stopping them.

Well, I think I understand a little. Wendy also complains about Stan. That kid who was best friends with the red head Jew. Stan Marsh. I found out he was the number one football player for the South Park Cows and is going to go Pro. Since he's been busy with his future, he hasn't been spending much time with his girlfriend. I found out his girlfriend was, in fact, Wendy. She thinks about leaving him all the time, but says 'it would ruin her social status.' Personally, I think that's dumb. Dating someone because everyone wants you to. And besides that, what social status? She'll probably be even more popular if she started going with Cartman. At least, she'd be happy. I don't know?

To tell you the truth, even though me and Cartman live in the same house, we don't talk. Never really. Maybe once or twice, saying stupid shit like _'What time is it?' 'Did you do last night's assignment?' _and the ever so popular _'Hey, kid move!'_ After he found out that our parents were making it official and were going to get married as soon as possible, he's been a little out of it. I've just ignored him. That, and I've had hardly any free time to deal with his bull.

Today was Saturday. I knew what that meant. Well, first it meant, I got to sleep until noon. Then, I went over to Wendy's to run lines. I never understood why I started doing this. I mean, I wasn't even in the play. It was stupid.

Once I got there, we did the usual. She sat on the couch and I took the floor. For some reason she always seemed happy to see me.

"Alright, which part are we going over first?" I asked, looking through the many papers stapled together.

"Um…" She said in a high pitch voice, doing the exact same thing as I was. She looked down at me, "Would you mind doing me a favor first?"

I looked up, then shrugged, "Sure, I don't care."

"Take your hood off. It helps me understand what your saying clearer," She gave a cheerful smile.

I just looked at her, "Nope." I said simply, as I looked down at the paper again.

She rolled her eyes and let out a breath, "Fine." She thumbed through the script, "Oh! Scene eight. When Cinderella and Prince Charming first meet!" For some reason, she likes that scene. She always makes me play Prince Charming. I guess, if your friends are the other characters, you probably have plenty of time to run lines with them.

I stood up and pretending to walk passed the two step sisters. I do the stupid _gentleman_ bow and asked her to dance. This was stupid, but I've done it so many times I got over being embarrassed about it.

She took my hand and did a curtsy with a pretend dress. Her one hand laced with mine and her arm went around my neck.

My hand went to her hip.

We started the stupid dance. Meaning, she did lots of twirls and I was there to stand and support.

After, we were suppose to pretend to kiss, then say our lines.

Wendy looked all shocked, pretending to look at a clock town in the background, "Oh my goodness!"

I was suppose to look concerned, "What's the matter?"

She let go of me and backed away, "It's midnight!"

I was suppose to look confused, "Yes. So, it is, but why…?"

I would be cut off with her beginning to walk off, "Goodbye!"

I would try to stop her, but only with words, "No, no! Wait! You can't go now. It's only…"

I would be cut off again, "Oh, I must. Please! Please I must!"

I would have to look all confused again, "But why?"

…And you get the picture. She ends up taking off and leaving a shoe behind. Blah, blah, blah.

We got done early, only because I was getting sick of the play all together. When she asked what scene we wanted to go over I said, "Why don't you leave Stan and go for Cartman?"

She dropped her script and looked at me, "What?" She heard what I said. She was just 'taken back.'

They were so alike it kind of made me sick. The person everyone wants to be with. They can practically control what people think (even if his is in a negative way, and hers positive). They're amazing actors. Should I go on? Or just say they're totally into each other?

"You have no right to be into my business like that!" Her voice rose and gave me a cold stare.

They get mad easily.

"Business? What business?" I looked her way, dropping my script too, "Everyone can tell. You go around defending his fat-ass."

On cue, she said _her _line, "Don't call him that!!" Her voice was a screechy now, "Get out!!" She pointed at the obvious exit.

-

I left. It wasn't my business, right? So, what do I do for the rest of the day? I just went home. Home… it was weird calling it that for some reason. I usually just call it Cartman's house.

I turned down the block of… my house. I saw someone wearing a very familiar red coat.

I didn't even want to cross his path right now, but too bad he has a fence so I can't get in the back way. I kept walking, closer, closer, and closer. Each and every detail on him getting more clearer with each step. He made me sick.

One thing that _did _surprise me though, is that he didn't look up at me. Well, I shouldn't be _that_ surprised because we've been ignoring each other for some time now. I couldn't tell if he was mad, or not. He just stared at the ground shifting snow beneath his feet.

My feet stopped in front of him. I looked left, then right. What was he doing out here? I looked down at him now, and opened my mouth to ask.

He saved me the trouble, "Dude, don't go in there."

"Why?" Obviously, I asked. Why wouldn't I walk into my own home.

My ears picked up something from inside. Pounding… and screaming… (fucking cows). I sighed and rolled my eyes, "Jesus Christ…" I sat down next to him. And for some reason automatically did the same thing he was doing. Watching as I shuffled snow with my shoes. Suddenly, that made me mad. I looked over at _his_ shoes, then stood up, "I'm leaving!"

I heard his foot stop. It wasn't until then I realized he was standing next to me, "Go right ahead! Take your good-for-nothing _dad_ with you! Everything was great until you little butt-fucks came here!"

I turned so I was in front of him, "Do you think I even wanted to come to this gay-ass town!? I don't have a fucking say in this fat-ass!" I was going to rotate so I could walk away.

His hand griped my coat and pulled me around, forcing me down into the snowy lawn. He stood over my body and watched me with those big green eyes, "You don't have a say…!? Fuck that! You always have a fucking say, jackass!"

"Oh, sorry," I said sarcastically, "I can't control my dad like you control your mom! I can't tell him what to do! He'll beat the shit out of me!" I flinched once, expecting him to kick me for that.

Instead, he leaned down and picked me up by my coat again (everything, besides my legs were tangling from the ground). "_He'll _beat the shit out of you!? _You're_ worried about _him_!?! Shit, Kenny…" He pulled me in closer, "_I'll _beat the shit out of you!!"

I could hear the fabric of my jacket ripping under his strong hold. He wasn't kidding, was he? Then again, I couldn't help, but think this might be my fault. I shouldn't control my dad, but at the same time I shouldn't have him control me either.

He dropped me and looked away to another house.

I felt my back hit the snowy ground hard. It felt numb. I moved to my side and tried to look at whatever he was looking at.

"I always thought my mom would be single all her life. She could never pick a guy if her life depended on it. …You might be staying longer than I thought," He still didn't look at me, but his voice did sound a lot calmer (but not anymore positive).

I felt guilty, now. It was like we were barging into someone else's life. Taking over. I bet he feels threatened because he can't control either one of us. Maybe the day the world stops revolving around him, is the day he looses everything.

"They're getting married next weekend," He says out of the blue (Is it that close already?). I could see his anger rising again. He feels threatened, doesn't he? "My mom is finally getting married! Out of all the men! Out of all the guys she's…!" He kicked some of the snow on the ground, "Out of all the perverted, dirty men!" He sat down, right in the snow. I had a feeling he didn't care if his ass was going to be wet after it, "Why!?"

I hid what was left of my face (because of the hood) into the ground. Why did I feel so bad? I hated him. He made e sick. My hands dug into the snow as I screamed out, "I'm sorry!"

"I bet you are, you piece of shit," the sentence was aggressive, but it wasn't shouted at me. He was still mad. He probably still wanted to burry my dad alive and rip me in two. I don't blame him. He had a good thing going. That is, until we came.

-

We stayed outside even after the noises had stopped. I just laid there as I heard him making snowball and throwing them across the street. They hit street signs, mailboxes, and cars. One incident, the alarm actually went off on a parked car and he swore across the street at the person who went out and turned it off. After awhile, he got tired and sat down in the snow again.

The door opened and we both looked up.

Cartman's mom was there, "Aw, isn't this nice? You two look like you're having fun," She smiled, having no idea, "Come on, inside. Dinner is ready." She walked away and left the door open for us.

I sat up, looking at the door. I didn't want to go in there. It wasn't my house. Making yourself at home, at someone else's home, that doesn't want you there isn't exactly comfortable. I just sat there, as my gaze fell to the ground. I saw a shadow over me and I looked up.

He held his hand out for me with a pissed face, "Ay! If I have to listen to your bastard dad, you have to listen to my mom!"

I winced when he showed his hand to me. I almost thought he was going to smack me. When I looked a second time, I realized he was going to help me up. I slowly placed my hand into his palm.

His large fingers covered my knuckles and he pulled me up to my feet. He stared at me for a second, then turned for the door. Did he just do something _helpful_? I couldn't tell.

I followed in after. I couldn't help, but think:

'_Can even the evilest people on the planet have a good side hidden away?'_

-

Sometimes I hated this part of the day. I'm usually never here when it reaches dinner. Only on Sundays, and exceptions like today. I know it's too formal for Cartman, because the first day we tried this, he had a fit. Now, I just think he's sick of fighting it. I think it isn't fair. Why do we change what they do, if they give us the house.

Everyone at the table was quiet. You would think the two grownups would be having a conversation, but no. I knew why me and Cartman weren't talking. Or at least I knew why I wasn't. I didn't want to make him in a worse mood than he was already.

Through the silence, Cartman nudged his mother a little to get her attention, "Can you pass the chicken, mom?" He didn't even say it in a rude way.

"Sure, hon!" His mother smiled brightly and picked the plate up.

It was forced back down on the table, with my dad's fork sticking out from it. He gave a cold stare at Liane and said, "That boy of yours don't need no more."

Oh shit. Why did I have a horrible feeling right now?

She looked at the man innocently, "What do you mean, honey? He just…"

My dad pounded his fist on the table, "Damn it, Liane! Your kid is the fattest piece of crap I've ever seen!"

She gasped a little and placed her hand on the middle of her chest, "Excuse me?"

Cartman got out of his chair and stood up, "What the fuck did you say!?" He looked like he was going to kill him.

His mom stood up now. She placed her hand on her son's shoulder, "But he's not fat. He's big boned."

My dad just sat there and took a sip of his beer. He looked at both of them before saying anything again, "It don't matter what you wanna call it. He's nothin,' but a big, fat, spoiled kid! He need to learn how to control himself!"

I put my hands over my eyes and tried to think that this wasn't happening.

"Control!? _Control!?_" His face started to turn red and breathed hard, in and out.

His mom put her hand on his back now, trying to calm him down. "It's alright, honey bunny. You can sit down and have as much chicken as you want, okay?" She said this in a motherly voice.

He flicked his mom's arm away from him and kept staring at my dad. "Get out of my house!! Take your worthless piece of crap son and get off my propertay!!" He pointed at the door about to rip the table cloth off.

I sunk my head lower. That's the second time I've seen someone point me out of their house. I almost got up and ran out it.

Oh shit. I knew it just got a lot worse once I saw my dad stand up now, "You ain't the man of the house no more. You do what I tell you!"

He just stared at him. Giving him his pissed off face. Grinding his teeth together. Balling his fists with the table cloth. Once it looked like he was about to give up, until his hand reached over to the plate and chucked it at his face. He watched him fall down, over his chair and shouted, "Kiss my ass, you drunken bastard!"

His mom ran over to his side and called out to her son with the same motherly voice, "Bad, Eric. That's a very bad boy." Sounded more like she was talking to a puppy who isn't potty trained.

I got up and backed away. This was bad. This didn't even involve me and I was getting freaked out about it.

My dad got to his feet, using the table for balance. He marched around it and before he could get in front of Cartman, his hand grabbed a hold of a chair and smacked the boy across the face with it.

My legs automatically made me take a step forward, but I kept my distance. I held my tongue too.

Before he could get up, my dad grabbed him by the hair and started jabbing his fists into his face. All those bruises that just healed from me, were coming back.

My legs made me take another step forward. I wanted to shut my eyes, but I couldn't.

My dad stood up again, letting Cartman lay on the floor. But it was about ten seconds before he started kicking at his stomach and ribcage, "You'll learn not to talk bad about me, boy!"

"_Stop_!" I screamed until I lost my breath. Why was it so hard to catch your breath when you're so nervous?

Everyone looked at me, but the only person I cared that was, was my dad. I didn't want him coming after me now.

Despite my fear I ran over to Cartman and grabbed onto his wrists. Actually dragging him across the floor and away from that man.

After a couple seconds his legs started working and he got up. He looked at me with fear filled pants, then at my dad. He was scared. It was weird to see him like that. Instead of angry breaths, they were panicked. Instead of wide pissed off eyes, they were wide and glassy.

I put my hand on his back and quickly guided him up the stairs.

-

Once we got to the bathroom, he tried to play off that nothing was wrong. Everything was cool, everything was normal.

He leaned against the bathroom sink, not looking to me at all while he fed me his self-absorbed stubbornness, "I could have taken him down. He just caught me by surprise. He treats me like that again, I'll kick him in the nuts." The only problem with that, is that he started it.

I took a small washcloth out of the warm water in the sink and rang it out. There were words on it that said '_Don't forget to bring a towel_.' I dabbed the small scraps on the side of his face with it.

He let out a pained hiss and pushed me back, "Damn it, Kenny! That hurts!" He put his hands over it now.

"Stop it," I put the rag in the sink again and tried to pull his arms down, "Stop! Stop touchin' them! You gunna get them infected!!"

He fought me for it and having the advantage of being taller than me, he kind of won. "Yeah? Well, you're gunna infect them with your dirty-ness!" He used one of his legs to push me back as he turned the side of his face away.

I tried to push closer, even if his big stinking foot was poking into my spleen (where is that on the body anyway?). "Goddamn it, Cartman! I'm trying to help you!! Stay still!"

His stupid mind doesn't think well enough to know, you're not going to have the most amazing balance with one foot on the ground. Obviously, I pushed too far, he tried to push back, causing his body to move in the other direction. So, he pulled on me in defense and we fell to the floor.

So, now, I was laying there, tangled with him. I pushed myself up and sat over to the side, "Nice move, moron! As if you need more bruises than you already have!" Something was different, but I could put my finger on it.

He sat up now, looking at me. An evil look went on his face and he crawled closer to me. His hand came up and he pushed his finger against my cheek, "So, you _do _have a face. Not bad, but I was expecting a big mutation somewhere since you even wear that hood when you sleep."

"What!?" That was it! I could heard my own voice! That, and it felt a lot cooler on my face. I turned away and tied the strings tight, covering my face again. I stood up and grabbed the rag again. I squeezed the water from it, then looked in the mirror. I didn't belong here, did I? I let that thought slide before sitting in front of him now.

Amazingly, he didn't seem like he was going to fight me this time. He tilted his head up, showing the side of his face that was now dripping from a wound, higher up on his head, "Can we hurry this up? I'm tired."

I leaned closer and dabbed at it, plus the small scrapes too. I wrapped a white cloth-like bandage around his head for the bigger one. I let my hand lightly touch from his hair, to his puffy cheek, down to his thick, fleshy neck. "Hey, Are you alright?" I asked carefully.

He just rested the good side of his face on the cabinet door under the sink, "I'm fine!" He said through his teeth, "Just shut up for a second." His fingers came up to his head and rubbed there. I wonder if he had a headache. He was 'fine' a minute ago. This didn't seem right.

My hands tugged onto his arm slightly, "Come on. Let's get you into bed." I admit, I was getting a little worried. I was hoping it was the blow to his head that was making him act like this.

"No," He swallowed, "just something to drink." He closed his eyes trying to relax.

I was up in a second and took the small cup that was on a small shelf next to the sink and filled it with water. I instantly went back to his side and handed it to him, "Here."

He took it and took down a few chugs before spitting it all over the floor. He hurried over to the toilet seat and hurled.

All I could think about, at the time was three words over and over again:

'_Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God!'_

Then, thinking this was all my fault. Then, thinking how nasty it sounded. Then, finally, hearing a _flush._

I looked up and his hand was still on the handle, as he was huddled over the seat.

I crawled to him and rubbed his back, "You ok?" It wasn't like I could do anything else. Except keep asking him if he was alright and blaming me and my dad for even coming here. For living in this house and making everything worse. My hand went in circles on his back, almost afraid to touch him.

His body tightened again and lost more of the dinner he ate earlier.

I turned my face away so I wouldn't have to see it, but I kept my hand moving. I had a feeling he needed all the comfort he could get.

_Flush!_

He watched me with those big puffy red eyes. He tried to smile and chock out, "Thanks."

So, this is how it feels to be thanked by him. I was happy, causing me to smile back (Of course not happy to see him like this). "Are you ok?" I said in a more serious voice (It felt like I had already asked that question a million times already). I wondered if something was wrong with him, "You wanna see a doctor? Go to the hospital?" My hand moved up, rubbing between his shoulder blades.

He spit, then got to his feet, where he ended up falling back a little, catching himself on the counter, "No, I'm fine." He looked at the door and started towards it.

I got up as quick as possible and stumbled over to him, pulling my arm around his body. "I'll help you!" I don't know, but something about letting him do that by himself gave my chest a sour feeling. It was guilt.

Weather he wanted to or not, his arm fell across my neck. He smirked, asking, "For how much?"

"For how much?" I repeated thinking '_Are you kidding me?_' "Nothing, dude! You're my brother!" After a few seconds in saying that with a straight face, I realized why I was doing all of this now.

"No, you're not," His legs started to weaken, "We aren't until there's a ring on my mom's finger. And, even after that, you still aren't." That was true. I didn't know what I was thinking. I forgot for a moment that I ruined his small family.

Just when I thought I was doing something right.

-

I finally got him into bed. He practically collapsed with me next to him. I was stuck there as his arms hugged at my waist. He was already halfway asleep before he even hit the mattress.

I felt bad. I really did. You'd think I'd never regret having a fight, or beating someone. But this time, it's different. I'm actually here, understanding. I'm sorry for my mistake. I didn't even need the damn play to teach me that.

I rested my cheek to the warm brown mess of hair and cuddled closer. I knew he was asleep, but I whispered to him anyways, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, dude." My fingers combed through his brunette strands and stroked at his scalp. He didn't deserve this. I was taking everything away from him, and he didn't need that. No matter how much I thought he deserved it, I was wrong. Pushing him to the bottom wasn't going to make me feel better. Any better about him, life, or even me. Beating someone senseless and get them back isn't worth it in the long run. You hurt a lot of people on the way there. I should learn how to trust.

He buried his face closer to me and mumbled out something with a tired voice, "Don't worry about it." It was followed by quiet snores and regular breathing.

Maybe he was just hit on the head too hard. I think you can get dizziness and nausea from that. It could be normal. He could be fine, like he said. I'll just have to take his word for it.

"I'm sorry I'm not good enough to be your brother," I whispered softly into his hair. Why did it matter what he thought? Could I be starting to see something I haven't before? Something everyone else has.

"You are," he said, getting a better grip at my waist. He said it like it was no big deal.

I had a good feeling though.

'_Can even the evilest people on the planet have a different story to tell?'_

-


	5. The Kill

Chapter Four: The Kill

I had a really nice sleep. I wouldn't have woke up if it wasn't for the blinding light shining through the un-shaded windows. I hid my eyes away into the fresh shower scented strands on Cartman's head. I let my fingers ruffle through his minted fragrant hair, feeling how soft it actually was. In the middle of the night, I must had been pushed upwards because I was laying horizontal across his pillows.

His arms were still around me, snoring into me. He looked alright now. His cheeks were a little bit red, but other than that, fine. He mumbled something incoherent before lifting his head a little. His eyes opened halfway, looking at me as if I were a retard trying to ride a bike, "What are you doing?"

I shrugged and pet at his head again, "You tell me."

He struggled to sit up and held his head low. His voice sounded groggy, "It feels like I got hit by a truck…"He grabbed his head, kind of looking like he'd just rip the pain away from it.

"More like a chair," I said quietly. I was up now, placing my hand onto his shoulder and giving it a squeeze. "Maybe you should lay back down."

He didn't look as great as when he was asleep. Maybe he was just tired. And probably ached from the bruises. They were starting to show on his face. He got to his feet and went out the door, "I'll be back. I have to piss."

I didn't think he was telling the truth when he said that. I think he was sick again, but I didn't say anything about it. I know this, because when I went down the stairs (to grab him an ice pack) I heard him.

When I came back up, he was laying on his bed again. His eyes dazed, looking as if he'd fall asleep again any second. Maybe that was a good thing.

I closed the curtains this time and went to his side. I put the icepack onto the black mark around his eye. "You feelin' alright?" I was waiting for him to react, but I guess it didn't bother him.

"My head feels heavy," He admitted. I didn't expect that at all, even if he said it like it was nothing new. His one eye opened and looked my way, then brought his hand up to my jaw and traced over it.

I looked away, trying to hide a smile. I knew my hood was down, and this was the first time I didn't feel freaked out about it. "I'm real sorry about this," Truthfully, I kind of wish I wasn't a little pussy. I wish I would have taken those hits. Maybe I'd be doing some good.

I heard him laugh, as if it was something Dane Cook would say. He let his arm rest around me as he calmed his now pained laughter. At first, I thought he was out of his mind until he whispered, "You're mom is pretty."

I kind of looked at him like he had rabid squirrels flying out of his hair (Random). At that point I didn't think he was out of his mind, I _knew_ he was. I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. Then, the second time I tried I said, "How would you know?"

He shrugged, as if it was no big deal again, "Maybe I have something to look off of." He watched me, then laughed again.

I was confused.

-

We were watching TV. Some weird stuff, like on the generic Nickelodeon channel, with it's ever _creative_ station called _NickToons_ instead. Me… just sitting there… watching angry ticks fly out of someone's nipples. Cartoons make me wonder sometimes.

I looked over again. He was sleeping now, too. Still hugging my waist, wondering if there's imprints of his arms there now. Did he even remember the whole, getting hit with a chair, thing. I guess, all he needed was rest, something he was getting right now.

Butters' entrance kind of made a difference. He skipped into my room without warning singing the rainbow songs of _My Little Pony_, "My l-little pony, M-my little pony, What will today's adventure be?" Bouncing up and down like a child with too much sugar in his system, singing the lyrics of a ridiculously gay TV show that must have never aired once, and bribe little kids into buying overly charge stuffed horses with a DVD, "My little pony, My little P-pony, Will there be exciting sights to see?" His little marketed _My Little Pony_ key chains dangling at the end of his _Hello Kitty_ book bag, probably costing five fifty-something each and made in the famous land of China. The country most likely branded on their asses. He began his marching in place, "Where will you w-wander? Hither and yonder, L-letting you heart be your g-guide! M-my little pony, my l-little pony, I'll be right th-there by your side!" Was he done? He got to his knees for the grand finally, "I'll be r-right there by your s-side!"

I sort of just blinked, sitting there. One friend with their arms around me and the other singing about rainbow smiled ponies. I knew I was in Hell. Someone hang me now. I whispered out to him, "Butters? What do you want!?"

He covered his mouth, getting all embarrassed, "O-oh Jesus, Am I interrupting s-somethin,' K-Kenny?"

I stared at him, then looked down at Cartman. I quickly looked back up, "No! Oh God, no! This isn't _that_, dude! He's just sick!" I heard him start to hum the signature butt pony song, and all I could do was laugh.

Butters came closer, looking at him, "Wow-ie! What h-happened to him?" He poked the already melted ice pack and then brought his hands up fast only to fiddle his fingers together, "Aw, it's all squishy…"

"He… um…" I didn't exactly trust Butters with the real truth for some reason. I don't know why? I mean, he had to be one of the friends I've actually had a conversation with.

But the make-up just plain up bothered me. Especially right now. His little pink _CareBears_ shirt with the matching shade of pink on his eyelids. You wouldn't believe the pink little bears hanging from his ears. Weather they were real or fake was beyond me, but that doesn't stop them from, most likely, costing two ninety-five.

I answered with the most common excuse, "He fell down some steps." I got loose from his hold and stood up, trying to feel my body again. "So, what's up?" I asked, curious about why he was over right at this point.

"I-it's Wendy…" He looked down at his knuckles and spoke slowly, "S-she quit. The l-lead actor of the play quit on us…" His aqua eyes stared up with entire innocence.

"Wow. It's too bad. Do we have a replacement," After the 'fight' with Wendy, I could care less. I found out she was nothing, but a crushing little girl who couldn't express feelings and got paranoid with people questioning about her likes… and dislikes.

"W-well, all her friends refuse to play the lead r-role. Y-you know how girls are… th-they stick together. We don't have a Cinderella…" He looked at his feet, looking a little nervous.

"That's too bad," I really could care less, since none of this affected me.

"I-if we don't find one fast, the play will be cancelled…" He looked up at me now.

"Wait…" No play, meant Juvy for me, didn't it?! "There _has_ to be someone! Doesn't anyone of these bastards know the fuckin' lines!?" I was freaking out now, but calmed after his answer.

"W-well, I know one person who knows them all by heart. I've been practicing with them for a-awhile now," He shifted side-to-side, a nervous, childish posture.

I smiled, "Yeah!? No shit? You had me scared." I laughed a little, trying to get my nerves back to regular rate.

"U-um… H-he's standin' right in front of me," He pouted his lip a little, "Please, Kenny? You're the only one."

My nerves were shot back up and I stood with my mouth pried open. Me? Cinderella? No… Me? IN A DRESS!? …but if I didn't… that meant a one way ticket to Juvenile Hall. "Did Wendy say why she didn't wanna do it!?"

He shook his head, "N-no sir! One of her friends fr-from the play called m-me. They said she was awful sore about s-somthin'."

"Well, what about you?" I pointed out, "We have a bunch of guys who want to be the prince, you can be her, right?" Hell, if he was going to make me, why couldn't he do it?

He gave me this really sad look.

I looked away, "Damn it!"

Puppy dogs eyes, pout, everything. EVERYTHING!!!

"Alright!" I shouted, then tried to get myself under control. I, somehow, couldn't believe I just agreed to that.

"Oh, th-thanks, Kenny! You won't regret this!" He said, then ran from my room. "O-oh boy!"

I looked at my TV screen with disgust, "I probably will…" I really didn't like Wendy. She did this on purpose. Such a manipulative little… I turned to Cartman, who was now laying fully stretched out on the bed. …Little asshole. Just like someone else I know.

"You're dad's not that bad lookin' either," I whispered, finally understanding what that meant. I left to take a walk.

-

That, and to smoke. Or maybe go to the gas station and steal some breakfast (even if it was around two by now). Seriously, could this get much worse? I know it wouldn't _directly_ mean if the play doesn't go on I'll go to Juvy. But I didn't know exactly. And if I ask the damn dean, you know what the answer will be. I'm not getting out that easy.

I sat at the curb of the gas station. A cigarette in one hand and a _Snickers_ in the other. Bite, Chew, Drag.

"Hello, Kenny! Strange seeing you here!" Kyle, happy face. That made me sick too. I just wanted to be alone. But, no. He sat down.

"Yeah? Strange? Since we live in the same town and all…" I looked away, not interested with what he wanted (Even if it was talking).

A red eyebrow stuck up, but ignored what I said, "Stan's a football practice." Why would I want to know that? "Oh! Did you hear? Wendy broke up with him. I know Stan's not taking it lightly, but I think she's serious this time."

"How do you take that bitch serious?" I said. Drag, Blow.

He just watched me for a few seconds before saying, "Are you okay, dude? You seem a little…"

"Perfect," Drag, Blow. "Couldn't be better." Suck, Poof. "I'm so…" My head stiffly turned to him, giving it my all to not all out lash on his Jew ass, "…HAPPY!"

He slid back a little, taken off guard. "Whoa, dude!" Was he listening? Not like I cared. But he was probably trying to see if I'd kill him or not.

"Don't ask me if I'm okay when I live in a house with the biggest bastard in the world!" I felt my body just hang at my spine after I said that. That, and only because it wasn't half as bad as I said it was. It was my dad who was the bastard! He did this all! That, and Cartman's fault! No, Wendy's! Is her life to ruin the lives of people who fuck her over? And the bad thing, it wasn't even that bad. It's not like I knocked her teeth out. If I would have know I was in this mess when that happened, I would have taken a free punch at her. More… for the same price. Like on those fast food commercials. They still get you with the over priced drinks though.

"Yeah… I heard you were living with Cartman. I just didn't want to bring it up. I know how much you hate him," He watched a random person pump gas into their car. Filling their tank with gas merely over three bucks a gallon. Wasteful. Probably only for them to do the same thing the next week, having the price jump a couple more cents. Yeah, but the truth was, Kyle didn't know. He assumed he knew how much I hated him. And the 'bastard' I was talking about was my dad, not Cartman. I was still debating if I hated or felt sorry for the fat fuck right now.

"Whatever," I tried to act like I could care less about the whole situation. But since it was one of the things on my mind, it was a little hard.

Kyle sprang up with a brighter note, "Hey! If you ever need anywhere to stay, my house is always available." He put his hand on my shoulder and forced a smile.

I looked at the green glove on me, "Thanks, but no thanks." I took the fabric of the glove between my fingers and plucked it off my shoulder as if it were some kind of disease, "And don't touch me."

He watched his hand fall to the concrete then looked away at the ridiculously high gas price sign. That, or he was looking at the sky. I couldn't tell. "That bad?" He asked, searching through his pocket. He grabbed a small scrap piece of paper and a pen, writing down a bunch of numbers. He handed it to me, "Here, just in case."

In case? In case what? In case I try to shoot someone in the face? In case I get in more trouble? In case I go to Juvy? This magic number will help me?

Very doubtful.

I snatched the number and crumpled it into my pocket, "Again. Thanks, but no thanks." I stood up, dropping the cigarette butt, that was in my mouth, to the ground. Squishing and grinding the little fag with the pressure of my shoe. I walked away from him.

I watched him just shake his head from the corner of my eye.

Freak.

-

I ended up by the movie theatre when I was sick of walking. Not having enough money to actually see anything, I just sat there. Every once in a while, seeing the people walk out and talk about how 'great' the movie was. Seriously, I could never be one of those movie ticket people. You'd hear the same bullshit coming out of people's mouths over and over.

I already wanted it to be the next day, even if it was the weekday. Meaning, school. Probably meaning, having people hate me again because of Wendy.

I huddled my legs closer to my chest and let my forehead rest on my knees. I let my eyes fall back into my head and my lids cover them. I only saw specs of silvery light streaming around darkness, before my brain decided to give out.

The next minute, happy bears, ponies, and kitties dancing all around me. A fucking world of pink grass and purple mountains. Rainbow flowers that danced along with them. A fucking nightmare of sweetness. The sun, that was too yellow for it's own good, in the sky even seemed to smile at you as it hung out in the pure blue sky with the happy poofy white clouds.

Happy little smiling animals, did ring around the Kenny. Before I knew it, I was in this frilly blue dress, high heels, and a silver crown. Dressed as the bitch Cinderella herself. Laughing, dancing, smiling!

My head jerked up, leaving me panting after the horribly happy dream. A fucking little cartoon land where small children would love to go. Their eyes so blind to the real shit. Anyone would dream to be that small again. But the dress was, seriously, unnecessary.

I looked up at the sky. Nothing like that dream. No blue at all. Grey. Grey clouds taking over the sky. It's not called a sky. It's called a big fat fucking cloud that gets whatever the fuck he wants. Takes over every-fucking-thing. Everything is _his_. Am I the only one who knows what's behind that fucking cloud? Hopefully not rainbow smiles and butterfly kisses, but still. Life, at least.

'_Can even the evilest people on the planet steal confidence from others?'_

"Can't tell what's worse: being stuck inside or being stuck outside." Speak of the devil.

I jumped a little, not expecting him to be sitting next to me. But it was nothing. I wondered how long I was just sitting out here? Long enough to come find me, right? By the sound of his statement though, it sounded like mom and dad were screwing again. I don't know how he found me.

His hat covered up the bandage wrapped around his head, but his face was still pretty bruised up. Lips and the side of his face beginning to scab over, and their was a little yellow on the bruises where it was fading from black to his skin color. His right eye, around the green, was pink.

I looked away, sick of seeing it.

"My eye is on the monster movie. Wanna go in and see some guts?" It took me a second to figure out what he was saying. We were at the movies. Okay. Oh, his sentence made sense.

I shook my head, "I don't have money." I rethought what I said, "I mean, I don't have the money." That didn't sound any better. Almost the same. I shrugged and tried to look down the street. Nothing all the way down.

"You sure?" He asked. He wasn't sure if I was sure. Or I wasn't sure if he wasn't sure that I was sure.

My hand slid into my pocket. I picked out a twenty from it. I remember. For leaving Kyle hanging. I guess, I did have the money. Did he know I did have the money? That's why he wasn't sure if I was sure. That can get confusing. "I'm not sure?" I said, showing him the money.

"Sweet. Let's go," He stood up. Stretching, yawning, the works.

I hesitated, like always.

-

We were all packed into a dark room to watch some unknown people get killed off one-by-one. Six teens and only two would make it out alive, if they run fast and hard enough. If they have the will. It would most likely be a girl and a boy who survive and fall in love at the end. I kind of felt bad for spending seven fifty for this crap.

The girl would be alone. In a dark room. Silent. Only having the bass music of _you are going to die_ in the background. You know the killer is close. She doesn't know if it is scarier to know the killer is in the same room, or to not know where he is at all. The killer would pop out of nowhere!

I suddenly closed my eyes and let my hands grip at the arm rests, all while letting a scream pass my throat. I shook.

The part of the movie where you actually see the face of the murderer. A fucking monster. Something you could describe. All made from a damn Hollywood office room. Hell itself lies in the hands of a fucking movie producer.

I haven't been to a scary movie in so long, I forgot how it was. I was the idiot. Screaming. I'm not even being chased by the moron!

I feel Cartman's eyes on me.

I looked at him, pretending like I wasn't afraid. My hands lifted from the armrests.

He laughed quietly.

I looked back at the screen, trying to ignore him. Which was probably a mistake, knowing now that my eyes were glued to the movie.

What would happen next? Who would die? Where was the killer? How would the next person die? Will it be long and bloody or short and cut-off?

Another teen by themselves. Scared. Alone. In a fucking dark room. Looking around, trying to find an exit. They open a door. It's so dark. You think nothing's there. Until… that fucking scary ass face comes through and jabs a knife into their throat. Leaving them choking and spewing blood everywhere. On the killer's face, making it that much scarier.

I cover my mouth and let out another cry. Without thought, tearing my vision away from the screen. I ended up burring my face into Cartman's arm and shaking again. It made me want to have my fucking nightmare again.

"Kenny," He whispered, trying to push me away. "C'mon, Kenny," He whined as he saw I wouldn't move after his push. He tried again, "Bad Kenny! Stop!"

I pulled myself away. I didn't mean to.

-

When we got out, it was dark. We had to walk home.

The movie replayed in my mind. I looked around. Paranoid. I even walked closer than I was suppose to next to Cartman. Looking around. Every damn shadow I would think was the killer. But he wasn't real. Just some Steven Spielberg creation. I thought that would help… It only made me think there was something worse after me.

"God, Kenny! What's wrong with you!?" He shouted, probably fed up with me.

I jumped and moved away from him after he spoke. I looked at his face. Every single feature, to make sure it was him and not anyone else. Who the hell else would it be? I looked, just in case.

Just in case.

He shook his head, "That movie was gay." That's what he wanted me to think. …That's what I wanted me to think.

I shook my head. Nothing else agreed with it though. I jumped, bumping into him two seconds later, after seeing my own shadow.

His hands grabbed my coat and brought me close to him, "Kenny! You freak out again, and by God, I'll kick you in the nuts!!" He let go and started walking again. Knowing him, he'll do a lot more than that.

I fell behind him now. I really didn't feel like starting a fight. Neither of us needed it.

"How long were you sleeping there?" He asked suddenly.

I shrugged, watching my feet as I walked. Trying to look at anything, but what was around me, "Beats me."

"Oh, I forgot. You already know how it is to be a bum on the street. Since, you've been one your whole life!" He laughed right after.

I didn't respond. I was hardly paying attention to what he was saying.

He turned around, "I'm making fun of you, Kenny!" Obviously. He likes laughing at his own jokes, but what he likes more is the other person's reaction. "Your family's poor, Kenny!" Stating another obvious. His jokes only backfire on him when he doesn't get anything back.

"Really?" I looked up finally, "Too bad we'll be family in six days." I've been counting. Next Saturday. Our parents will be married. "And you'll be the only Cartman in the house."

His face changed. Reality was a bitch. He began walking again. Completely ignoring me. I thought he would at least hit me. I guess not.

'_Can even the evilest people on the planet have a weakness?'_

I let my head hang down from my shoulders. I can't take this anymore.

What made it worse, that stupid seven fifty horror movie gave me nightmares all night.


	6. From The Inside

Chapter Five: From The Inside

I woke up early today. Monday. Five more days. Five more days until I'm related to this asshole sleeping next to me. I got up and took my shower. Brushed my teeth and left. By the time I walked out the door he was just starting to get up.

My shoes crunched through the snow on the ground. It was fresh. It snowed last night. If I've learned anything, it's to never give up. I heard quitting is addicting too. One less thing that I needed to be hooked on.

After the wedding, what will happen? Will anything change? Or will it all stay the same? Maybe things will fall into place. With my luck, no chance.

I just wish I could make up my mind if I hated or felt sorry for Cartman. If I figured that out, I would be good. It's just more confusing than it needs to be. It's like you can see everything thing. You can read everything that he's trying to do on his face, but at the same time you can't tell shit about what he's thinking. He knows where he's going and what he's doing, but at the same exact moment he's lost. I'll never know what he'll do next.

Last night, I he even had me thinking over what he said about Hitler that one day at the gas station. What if he was just looking out for his own good. What if he was trying to do what every other person would do? Not everyone's a saint.

I stopped walking.

No. What the Hell was I thinking? Hitler was a bastard. He killed millions of innocent people.

'_Can even the evilest people on the planet be like everyone else?'_

No. No. No.

Was I starting to trust Cartman? Just like everyone else?

No. No. No.

I wouldn't let myself fall that low. I have no option, but to hate him.

-

I avoided Kyle today. On purpose. I just didn't feel like talking to him today. I just walked around the hallways, tired as Hell. I had a lot of time to kill. It only took a couple minutes before I saw Cartman. He didn't notice me, but I didn't care.

It was weird. He was walking alongside Wendy, laughing and fucking around. Did she actually listen to something I said? Did she ask him out after all? What a fucking bitch! I help her what to do, and she makes me be Cinderella!? It would be a different story if she totally ignored me, but this was fucking unbelievable!

I wanted to go over there and shove my fist right into her plastered little face! I walked that way until I was stopped by the small little blonde kid. My eyes drilled at both of them until they were out of plain sight.

Butters smiled with his shiny lip gloss on his lips, "H-hiya there, Kenny!"

I looked at him, pissed as ever, "Is that bitch, Wendy, dating Cartman?!" I asked through gritted teeth, gripping at the insides of my pocket.

He nodded with joy, "O-oh, yes! Th-they look so happy together! Don't y-you think?!"

I gave him a stale look and sarcastically said, "Fantastic…" I literally wanted to take the closest wall and start jamming it into my head. Over… and Over… and OVER again.

Butters bounced up and down, "Oh! You have to get fitted f-for your dress today a-after school! It's v-very pretty!" He giggled, (sadly) being so serious about the subject.

"Oh, yay…" More sarcasm, "I can't possibly wait for that…"

"I-I Can't wait! S-see ya!" The short blonde, mop top waved and went on his way.

Hooray…

-

That's all I could think about for the next three classes. Wendy and Cartman. A way out of 'Community Service.' And getting fitted for this 'beautiful' dress. All making me not too happy at all. Over and over. Replay. Stop. Rewind. Play. Fast-forward all the good stuff. Stop at the crap I'm stuck worrying about. My stomach dropping as it freeze frames me in my fruity little dress.

I swear, I'll go up to that bitch Wendy and beat her senseless until she plays the main roll. I thought about it again. That might make things worse…

They had us run the track for gym today. I was mad. Well, not mad at running too much. Even though it felt like the tubes in my lunges were squeezing tight, not letting any oxygen through. I would have to stop halfway through a sprint and catch my breath. Smoking. It'll kill you.

"McCormick! Keep this up and I'll have you run ten extra!" That was the teacher bitching at me to keep going. He wouldn't know how my chest felt. How dry my throat felt. How hot my face felt. He couldn't tell I was suffocating on my own lungs. Then again, from far away, I just looked like everyone else.

I kept going, not wanting the ten extra laps. Fuck that. I'll die before that shit.

It was kind of embarrassing having the handicapped kid pass me up though...

"Wow. I'd expect you to be farther up by now." The living, breathing asshole himself.

I looked over. I couldn't tell if he had to catch up with me, or slow his speed, but it was official that he was running next to me. His cheeks red, up to his ears. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead and chest. His body motioning with each step.

My lungs gave out for some reason and I couldn't think of anything, but learning how to suck in air again. Meaning, I had forgotten how to take steps. Something you learn when your one or two. Everything gave out once I looked at him. It felt like an asthma attack! I tripped over my own two feet and tumbled to the floor.

My foot stepped on my other foot when I was trying to lift my other foot. My ankle was shot. I was on the ground, still remembering how to breath. Sucking in the miscellaneous dirt that was on the gym floor with it. I didn't care. I was scared.

I felt Cartman's arms on my shoulders, bringing my up to a sitting position. He rubbed at my back, kind of like what I was doing for him that one time. I heard him whisper something, but I was took hyped up to even listen.

I forced myself to take in deeper breaths, but it only made me hyperventilate (which didn't help at all). I grabbed onto his shirt. I tightened, then loosened my grip. I tried to level out my breathing that way. Tight, inhale. Loose, exhale. Tight, inhale. Loose, exhale. Tight, inhale. Loose… Until I caught my breath. I was fine again.

The first thing I hear is the walking asshole, "Jesus! Are you okay, Kenny?" He called over one of the teachers. He explained what happened and eventually let us sit out.

-

I pressed the coldness on my ankle. It wasn't even an icepack. The school was way too cheap for that. It was a Dixie cup with frozen water inside it, all wrapped around a famous Zip Lock Baggy. I guess, it got the job done, but it was stupid.

"Thanks," I said, not really bothering to look at his face.

"I should be thanking you," He laughed, "You got me out of running today!" He smiled, now pointing and laughing at all the other people who _do_ have to run.

I watched him and rolled my eyes. I knew he wouldn't help me unless there was something in it for himself. He acted his whole way out of this. He couldn't care if I was dying. He saw an opening and took it. If he wasn't such a lazy ass, he could probably be a better football player than Stan.

I've seen the kid play. Don't get me wrong. He rocks. Better than everyone else. But if Cartman was out there, there's be no chance in Hell. He's huge! He has the strength! And he has the mind to go with it! Just the lack of _wanting_ to do anything. I bet if Wendy wanted him to, he would. But since she found out what happens to guys who are star football players, she would never consider it.

But…

Maybe there was a way to brake them up.

One word about him going into football, and she'd dump him like a rock. Not only would I get them separated, but I'd kill Cartman's pride along with it.

…But.

The question, now, is who would help me? Who hates Cartman as much as me? I remembered the number in my pants pocket.

Kyle.

-

So, let me ask this. Do people want to be noticed and have their name set in stone before they die (Or some, after)? If the world were to know the four names I know, plus myself, how would we be known as?

Well, let's look at the most obvious one. Take Kyle. Little ginger, freckles, glasses, ect. With all those books he carries around, he has all the knowledge in the world. He'll probably turn out to be the next Bill Gates, if he tried. Smartest douche in America!

Okay. Let's take his friend now. Mister Marsh. Football champion. Probably play on the Denver Broncos and win the world series touchdown. Easy. Run across a white line painted on some grass and you become the next thing people are talking about in study hall. The luckiest athletic 'hero' in America!

Then, we have Butters. Probably the first male model to actually compete against girls and win. People wouldn't stop laughing at him and he'd probably end up in at least Scary Movie 12 or 13. His disgustingly femmy sense of style, childish looks, and fruity smelling perfume. Please, put your hands together for the laughing stalk of America!

Of course we have Cartman next. World leader. No, scratch that. World domination. The first person to take over the world with success. He'd probably have all the Jews go first. A big mark in History there. He'd most likely have all the scientist working on breast cancer and rectal warts stop what they're doing and find out how to keep someone alive forever. He'd be unstoppable. Bow down to your new ruler of the world!

Then, me. What about me? Before I die, how would I leave my mark. If I would do anything, it would probably go mentally insane, steal one of those rich rappers Escalades, and drive that mother fucker right through the White house. Not before graffiti-ing it with big red letters that said _Kenny was here!_

So… how would we all die?

Check this out.

Kyle will die in a concentration camp set up by the new found rule leader, Eric Cartman.

Stan will most likely get some hard competition and over dose on steroids.

Butters will commit suicide because no one likes him.

Cartman's cure for living forever won't be done. So, he'll have himself frozen. But what he doesn't know, is that all the people don't want him back and will keep him like that forever.

If I don't die driving straight through a building, police will gun me down on sight.

And over all, the world will go to Hell. And once the ozone layer gives out, we'll either all drown to death because of the poles melting, or we'll freeze in the our little water supply once the space's atmosphere hits (or will we burn up? I can't remember Science).

Yay! So, have your mark on History. Work your hardest! Because you won't be washed away by the Earth's water! YAY! Go us! Let's keep living on a rock, then die. But leave something behind so people will remember us. Then, that will turn into nothing too!

Stay in school… It will matter later.

-

This is what I was thinking about on my way walking to the library, where I would meet Kyle. I told Butters to tell him, and I got out of Study Hall to meet with him.

I walked into the library. It was quiet as Hell. Meaning, the librarian was doing her job a little too well today.

Kyle stood up and flagged me down. "Over here," He whispered, still waving his hands like a total moron. Come on. This was a library with two people in it, not some heavy metal rock band concert. Better yet, a horror movie, where you left to go to the bathroom and you couldn't find your seat in the dark.

Sadly enough, I walked over to him. Not wanting to. I hardly even wanted to know the retard at this moment, but it would be worth it in the long run. I sat down next to him, "So, Butters _did_ tell you."

He nodded and smiled, "Hell yeah, dude. You sure you want to go through with this though? A lot of people will be on your ass if we don't pull it off."

I let my elbow rest on the desk and I place my cheek into my palm, "A lot of people are already on my ass." I explained without another word.

"Alright," he began, "Well, if we want to take him down, we have to take away his pride, ego, and popularity. In other words, without the need to control, low self-esteem, and followers, he'll fall like a rock." He held up one finger, "The easiest way to do this, is to take all of the people, who support him, away. After that, things will take it's course. If people stop listening to him, he's going to give up. With that, he's going to realize what an ass he really is."

"So, he'll learn his lesson?" I asked.

"No!" He got a nice _shhhh_ from the librarian once he shouted that, then continued with a lower voice, "No, Cartman doesn't learn from his mistakes. You give him a break and he takes advantage of it and he'll end up right back at the top again." He sat back, "Trust me, I've tried."

I nodded, "Alright." It wasn't like I cared about him and his, soon to be, hurt ego. "So, how do we do that?"

"Wendy," He said as if I knew where he was getting at. "Rumors and Wendy will work hand-in-hand. You say shit like, 'Cartman, I heard Wendy said this' or 'Wendy said that'. He likes that girl more than anything."

I tilted my head, "But wouldn't that be hurting his ego first?"

He stopped… only to start again, "I guess… Yeah. But at the same time rumors will be spread about him. You know the people around here, they will talk about anything interesting. Cartman's the spotlight. If they hear he's doing all this shit and he gets pissed off enough by the rumor you we feed him. He'll snap." He stopped again to think, "We'll say that he's abusing Wendy and once he snaps and actually hits her, no one will like him anymore. Lies with lies. Wendy won't know the lies being spread about her and Cartman's 'cruel' relationship because people will pity her too much. Probably say shit like, 'She's not ready to talk about it. We should wait until she's ready.' And Cartman wouldn't dare tell Wendy about what she's 'saying,' because he's way too stubborn. He doesn't take care of things with talking."

"We're going to say Wendy gets hit by Cartman, and we're going to tell Cartman Wendy's talking about him? And that will start a fight, making everyone… hate Cartman," I know I was a little retarded that I had to say it out loud to understand it, but whatever. It was a great plan. Thanks to the new Bill Gates.

"Exactly," He said with a smile.

-

We started the rumors right away. The Jew told me to have a 'serious' talk with Cartman later that night.

So, I would.

It was funny. The kids around me weren't talking about me anymore. Everything was related to Cartman. It was perfect. You could probably go up to someone and they wouldn't know who Kenny was.

-

I got fitted for my dress today and got my hand full of _Ohhh's_ and _Awwwww's. _Personally, I thought it was the ugliest thing alive. Small top, huge puffy bottom, and big poofy shoulder things. Topped off with the big ass pearl earrings (fake ones), headband, curly hair, make-up, and naturally the glass slippers.

I managed to do a part of the play in front of the class with a straight face. They seemed to like it. I wasn't too sure.

Before I left to walk home, Butters had stopped me. "W-well, hey! Kenny!" He smiled, "W-wanna know a secret? You make a w-way better Cinderella than Wendy could ever be!" He fiddled his fingers together, "Y-yeah. W-we was all talkin' and y-your even prettier than h-her too!"

I looked at him with tired eyes, now probably covered with sky blue eye shadow. I couldn't tell if that was an insult, or a complement. "Um… Thanks."

I left.

-

After school, I just waited on the bed. He would probably be over at Wendy's sucking her face and licking her spit. Thinking of that grossed me out.

_Recycling and speed limits are bullshit. They're like someone who quits smoking on his deathbed._

I was reading this book. If I remember any line in it, it's that. Only because most people do that. People don't do anything about _anything_ until they already lost. Probably something Cartman will do.

Don't get me wrong. I've never picked up a book-book in my life except for a couple.

I hate reading. Not because of the same reasons the lazy kids who sit in the back of the class do. I hate them because they're fake. Most anyways. You have a _lovey-dovey _mess of shit. You have _I obviously know this isn't real because there's magic shit._ And the _informational shit no one gives a damn about_. Mostly, because none of those stories end! After the back cover shuts, so much more could have happened on those invisible pages. All these Disney fairy tales… CRAP! They're nothing, but an ending that leaves you saying. What…. That's it? That was totally gay. The end isn't the end until death catches up with you. If mister (dead) Walt Disney himself saw some of these bogus kiddy movies, he'd probably throw himself off a cliff!

What happens after _Happily Ever After?_

Does the little mermaid sit in her room all day thinking about how many other mer_maids_ her father actually raped? Why else would she have so many sisters that looked nothing like her and her dad?

After the Beast turn into his human self, what happens next? He was such a fucking selfish king before, why would he stay with Belle? He probably planned the whole thing, and now he went to bang all three (Pink, Blue, and Green) bitches that hovered over the (Now, dead) Gaston.

What about Peter Pan? He lives forever and ever. Doesn't he ever wonder how it is to die? Does he ever try to kill his immortal body while thinking about how his Wendy gets older and older and now is 40, sleeping with some other guy. She moved on, while he's still a kid. Living life without him.

And you come to tell me that Cinder-fucking-ella doesn't get murdered by her greedy step sisters and mother?!? They'd take her off that damn pumpkin carriage and beat her ass! They have nothing to loose anyways.

My eyes leave the book and see mister _I'm too awesome for my own good, and I don't know everyone hates me._ I set it down and say, "hey." Not happy. Not sad. Just a hey.

He took a look at me and shouted, "Holy shit!" He come closer to me and grabbed my face, "Is _that_ make-up!?" He held his stomach and laughed like it was no tomorrow.

"Yeah," I sat back in a comfortable position. I'd get you back you fat son-of-a-bitch. "You're bitch girlfriend dropped out of the play, and I guess, they made me the lead role now."

His laughter stopped after the word _bitch_. His thick arms folded with one another, "Well, she dropped to spend more time with me."

"Not what I heard," I picked my book back up. Licked my finger, turned the page, and pretended like I was reading.

"What?" He said, now listening to every word I would say. He sat down, causing the bed to shift. His green eyes still beamed through me.

"Yeah. You know, Wendy's best friends: Bebe, Red, and Sally," Kyle helped me memorize the names, "She dropped because she was afraid you'd try to be the lead guy and kiss her. They said she said your mouth smells like an ass farm." I almost caught myself laughing.

He covered his mouth as if it were true. I knew one thing now, Cartman hasn't kissed Wendy yet (And probably never will). Score for Kenny.

"Yeah, and your hair. She likes guys with black hair. She thought yours was, until she saw it. She thinks it's messy and looks like you just came out of a paper shredder." I held my breath as I watched him tug his hat farther on his head.

"What else?" He watched me, totally freaked out. Jesus, must like the girl a lot.

"Um…" ideas. Ideas. What could I say next? "Oh!" Something, "She says your eyes look like someone picked their noise and wiped them there. She also says you have crusty eyelids in the morning. Really should wipe those off, dude." I said, trying to seem helpful.

He rubbed the back of his hand to his eyes.

"Oh!" And last, but not least, "She says you're the fattest piece of dog shit she's ever seen. She said something about if she wanted to have someone with bigger hooters than her mom, she turn into a lezz," I smiled, pretending to read my book again. Still on page 124.

He looked at me, then down. He sounded a little hurt. He must really care what that Wendy girl has to say. He's been called that God knows how many time probably. "She really said all of that?"

I felt a little bad now… But I couldn't! I said I wasn't. I hate him. I chose that already. "Yes, yes she did," I said, serious enough. I almost regretted it. It left my mouth dry and my head screaming:

_No! No, Cartman! I lied! Don't listen to me! I'm just an asshole who can't forgive! You don't even look that bad! _

I swallowed that voice and went on with my silence. I would have to think about it later. I hated him. I already said I did. It was written in stone. I'm not changing my mind.

He left the room and sat on the couch that night.

_What the Hell did I do?_

-

(Congratulations to Famous Living Dead for getting the answer right. The quote: "_Reycling and speed limits are bullshit. They're like someone who quits smoking on his deathbed." _Is from the Book _Fight Club_, by Chuck Palahniuk!! Yay! I dedicate this chapter to you! Thank-You! I will be working on your One-Shot.)


	7. Bad Day

Chapter Six: Bad Day

I woke up to the screaming alarm clock next to my face. My hand slapped down the snooze button and I rolled over for five more minutes of sleep. The thing was, I couldn't shut my eyes again. I was hardly tired.

Tuesday. Four more days. Four more days and I have Cartman's bed all to myself. Why does it feel like I'm taking over? Cartman's house was more my house than it was his. In four days… This house will be known as the McCormick's. We would have to change the answering machine.

I sat up straight as I heard the gagging and splashing noises coming from he bathroom. Was Cartman still sick? He was fine yesterday. Wait, I wouldn't know. I've only saw him for a little while.

I stood up and made my way to the bathroom door. Why, I don't know? Something was pushing me to find out if he was alright, or not. I was suppose to hate him, not be worried.

The door was forced open and left him standing there. He looked down at me with eye full of hate. "What the Hell are you doing?!" His voice sounded as bitter as it smelled.

I took a step back, cringing. "I.. I," Holy shit, I lost control of my vocal chords and nothing would come out. I felt guilty about everything. I wanted to say that I was a fucking fake. I wanted to say how much I lied. I wanted to tell him how much Wendy really liked him. Instead, I ended up backing away too far and tripping. My leg slid and I fell backwards down the stairs of his house. I closed my eyes and let my body spiral down the steps, landing on my back. One eye opened, while the other one tightened shut with pain. I just got more bruises for my collection.

I watched him stand there, then walk away. Nothing benefited him if he helped me this time. So, why bother?

I picked myself up. I ignored the sharp pains shooting through my spine for a moment, just to stare blankly at the top of the stairs (the spot he had been standing, but now nothing). The rings of the alarm clock went off again, time was up. I've put my mark on his home and life for too long. An overstayed welcome I couldn't escape from. I was in a house I've never been invited to.

-

"I can't do this…" I spoke looking down at the sidewalk and my feet stepped. Right. Left. Right…

"You…" Kyle said looking at me with wide eyes through the lenses of his glasses, "…can't?" One red eyebrow curved down as the other flung up. He was confused with what I had to say, "I don't get it."

"Cartman," I sighed more than I actually said his name. Why does it hurt to even think that name? I looked up now and muffled more through the orange material of my coat, "I feel like I'm ruining his life enough as it is." I shook my head back and forth and looked up at the school now coming into my vision, "I just want to leave him alone… for now."

"What?!" He ran up, into my path, and stopped me. He pointed his finger in between my two eyes, "What have I told you? The asshole never learns! We need to make him pay! If we go easy on him…" An gravitated noise came from his lips after sliding his hand down his face. He started again, "Don't feel sorry! What he's doing is just an act! His whole life is a fucking act! He is…"

I stopped him there, because I knew his ranting could go on and on if no one stopped him, "Listen. I know." I watched as a couple people passed us on the sidewalk. In their own conversations. My eyes met the snow covered ground before I started again, "…But doesn't acting get old?"

"Not for him," He spat, as if he knew everything about him. He bit his lip after I didn't say anything in respond, "Come on! Look at him! You probably know him more than me! He'll do anything to get what he wants!"

"What if he wants a normal life?" I looked up and through his glass covered rims, "Then, what? What if he's sick of being the big shot? What if he found something that can already screw him over?" I took a step forward, causing him to step back. "What if he's already learned his lesson?!"

"Kenny," He shook his head. He took a breath and just watched me, "You can learn the hard way." He bit his lips one more time and stuck his hands into his pockets, "But Eric Cartman has never _learned_ his lesson." He turned to walk away and waved one hand up.

Kyle was right again, wasn't he? I still felt bad.

Why? I said I hated him.

-

The day skipped around on me. I wanted to stop Cartman every time I saw him, but I held back. Something told me not to. It was either, 'Oh, he looks a little pissed, maybe next period,' or 'He's with Wendy. I don't want to bother him.' I still hated her.

It reached lunch hour and I still didn't talk to him. If any time was the perfect time, it was right now. We have the same lunch, he just doesn't know it yet. I sit on the far corner with some reject people and he sat at an over crowded table (Everyone wants to sit with him). Even his little miss perfect sat next to him.

They would laugh. Make jokes. There was always a smile on his face over there. It made me a little jealous. Then again, who would want to smile at someone they hated.

I shook my head and tried not to look that way. I covered my lips with the straw and took in some of the cartoned milk. I could hear their laughs all the way over here. It was like nails on a chalkboard to me.

"So, Kenneth, having a very merry day?" A high pitched voice rang in. I knew very well it was the foreigner. The perfectly straight, blonde haired punching bag of our school, Pip. He could probably be even more fruity than Butters. Then again, the only reason why I was sitting here was because the Drama prince knew the little fag.

I sucked in more milk, making a very loud and very obnoxious slurping noise. I slammed the carton onto the table and spoke back with complete sarcasm, "Peachy." I rolled my eyes and leaned back into my chair.

I watched each person at my table.

No one really talked besides Pip. I had a feeling everyone else sat there for the very same reason I did. I wouldn't talk to the rest of them though.

Sitting next to him, on the right, would be Damien. Your regular Goth. Black, scary. You don't want to mess with the kid. I've seen him get made. He claimed to be the _Prince of Darkness_ and sent a kid to the hospital. He has serious mental issues. It seems that only this Pip talks to him though. He doesn't hang with the rest of the Goths, sitting at the other side of the room. Drinking their coffee and complaining how horrible life is.

You have some average Joe. Some black haired kid with a sky blue coat. He hasn't said one word since I got there. All I really know about him is that his name is Kevin. That name would have to be _worse_ than Kenny. Half the school's boys are named Kevin. It's such a plain name.

Then, there's Dog Poo. He sits nowhere near me. And if he does, I'll move. You'll never guess why his name is Dog Poo. He smells like a piece of shit that's been rotting on the street corner for months!

Last, there's some black guy. I didn't bother to remember his name. There isn't really anything to say about him, besides he wears a purple shirt with a yellow 'T' on it. I guess, his name started with a T.

"Well, that's quite wonderful!" He flashed a smile, some-what near the same as Butters'. I wonder if they ever thought about hooking up and spreading their _joy_ on each other instead of on people that really don't want it. He leaned over to the dark kid, whose face was now hidden beneath his arms, "…And how about my good chum, Damien?" He _showered_ a _glorious_ British laughter on us all and patted the poor kid on the black dyed head.

His head lifted and uncovered his eyes that were pure red to the pupil. For a second I thought I saw fire swirl through them. His glare reached the happy-go-lucky British kid, "It sucked. I can't escape from the losers of this school!" His cheek rested on his black painted finger nails, "Plus, my second hour teacher wouldn't let me go piss. You humans show no respect!" His free fist slammed onto his tray, causing it to fly and hit someone at the next table.

The British piece of crap took a seat on the table and patted the boy's head once more, then swayed his finger. Left and right. "Now, now, Damien. That's not true. You may use the facilities right now, if you wish. We wouldn't want to be rude and interrupt one of our classes, now would we?" His smile rained on him, as if hurricane Katrina was hitting again (but in South Park).

"Rude!?" The boy clothed with black rose to and leaned over the British boy, almost as if he were breaking every law of Physics, "I am the Prince of darkness! Next in line to rule Hell! She should show _me_ respect!" He lowered into his seat, smiling now, "At least the plant by her desk got some watering."

_Mr. Sunshine_ swung his fist with a curve, showing the sign 'Way to go!' "Now, that's the spirit! Let's give it up for our old chum! Hip Hip…!" His smile never faltered, even when no one said 'Hooray' back. I felt bad for kids like him. Is _that _what happens to people when they are beaten senseless by bullies for years and years? You turn into a big pile of puss.

I shook my head and got up to throw my shit away. I don't think I can take anymore of Pip's happiness. People watched me the whole way to the fucking trash can. I think that meant the Cartman rumors were letting down and the Kenny shit was coming back. Before I noticed anything else, I had fallen and I was face first in the lunch I was about to throw away.

"Wow! I'm sorry. Was that my foot?" Fucking asshole! No, he didn't… That fucking _Asshole!_ The only real thing that followed that was his lunch table laughing in back of him. I could hear Wendy too. That was the worse part. Her laughing was the most distinct of all.

I got up, covered in nasty ass food I didn't even want to eat, let alone wear. My brow lowered and my eyes widened, taking in all of the people. Plus, Wendy. I swooped passed Cartman (the one who was responsible for doing it), and grabbed Wendy's little fucking throat.

She wasn't laughing anymore. The stupid fake! She wouldn't have been laughing a couple weeks ago while fucking Stan! She'd be masturbating over the rainforests and humping trees! How did this piece of trash get picked up by him!?

My fingers stopped, but she was still choking. The actress! The fucking lead role quitter! She new I was dead. I had just touched the most powerful student's girl. I was going to die…

I stopped. Why wasn't I fighting Cartman? Why weren't my hands all over _his_ fucking fat neck? Wendy didn't do shit! She laughed, like everyone else. Why wasn't I trying to kill them all?

I couldn't think. My body was lifted and pounded into the next table over (the kids ran after my back hit it). I just laid there trying to think. Was I at the school still?

Cartman grabbed my wrists, almost breaking them. His body towered over me and crushed at me. He didn't look happy. He probably looked ten times scarier than me a couple seconds ago. "You have a problem with my girl!? 'Cause she didn't do it, fuckin' retard!" He leaned closer down, pulling his head in front of mine and pressing more weight on me.

I struggled with air not only from his bone crushing pressure, but from fear too. I didn't have a chance in Hell. It felt like my eyebrows were having spasms over my eyelids. I could hardly choose if I was completely pissed at him, or if this was all my fault again. My body was tense, I still needed to fight, but looking at his eyes. They stung at me, and ate away everything I was fighting for. They screamed, _'This is your fault, Kenny! I would have been happy without you screwing shit up!'_ My body fell back, giving up. I couldn't even look his way anymore. My stomach choked up into my throat, then fell back down. I wanted to loose today. My teeth dug into the knot on my hood and I shook it loose. Only enough for my mouth to be free.

It was silent. Everyone was looking at Cartman. And if everyone was looking at him, they were looking at the dumb-ass under him. I didn't know what they were waiting for? They should be shouting _'FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!'_ by now.

My jaw had finally escaped the from my coat. I couldn't look at him. I could only gasp on breaths and think about how it was my fault. My eyes rose to that table I had been sitting at.

They were all looking at me. They all sat and stared. I haven't given one of them a reason to come over here and try to save me. They only hoped for the best. I didn't blame them. I wouldn't be over here either.

"Look at me, you piece of shit!" His fingers punctured my jaw line and brought my face inline with his again. "Say something, you fuckin' ass!" He didn't handle any part of me with care. He wanted me dead. He hated me as much as I hated him (which is starting to fall for some reason now). "You like beating girls, low bastard!?" I could smell his after shower mint aroma from here.

Just because my face was parallel with his, didn't mean my eyes were. I refuse to look at him still. I did it for my own reasons, but I deserved that too, huh? "Yes," I parted my lips finally.

Everyone heard. No one stopped us. Not even the teachers who kept an eye on us. They backed away.

"Is that what you want to hear?" Surprisingly, I spoke again. I had a voice. "That's what you want to hear, isn't it? Then, sure." My voice got lower, as if someone turned the volume down. I didn't do it on purpose, but only he could hear me. "Haven't I messed enough up for you? I totally screwed your life over." More words I didn't mean to say, "Just fight me again. You'll get out of it and I'll be sent to Juvy. You won't have to see me anymore." The muscles in my face worked, only to make my lips curve with a pathetic smile, "Why else would I be in that stupid play? Fuckin' dean gave me another chance. Shouldda cuffed me then… at least I'd get out sooner." I felt like dirt. I survive one day at a time, just because I can. I have no real reason for doing it. I can't help it.

"What are you waiting for!? Kill him!" I heard Wendy's voice chant from behind him. That only made everyone else start doing the same thing. She hated me. I knew this. I hated her for sensible reasons, she hated me because she could. I'm glad she didn't hear me. Bitch.

I couldn't see his face. I didn't need to. I could just picture myself. If I survived this, I'd have to survive a million more after it. I'd live behind child bars. Until I'm older, then they'll send me to real jail.

"No," his voice, serious and empty. He lifted off of me and let go of my wrists. I hear his feet back away.

I felt like I was floating compared to before. Light. Everything felt relaxed. I felt everything release from me at that moment.

Was he showing me sympathy? Was it mercy? He didn't do it for his fans. They were yelling at him to go on. Cheering for my end. He went against all of them. Every last one. Even Wendy. He actually backed off. Then again, he's in control, not them.

I felt a couple hands help me up. The people from my lunch table were next to me. They all looked impressed at something. I knew it couldn't have been me.

"Oh my! Are you injured?" The British boy said as he combined most of the syllables and said it almost way to high and fast for my intelligence.

"That was nice," The _Prince of darkness_ spoke, low and mellow.

Even the Kevin kid managed to get out a, "Sweet!"

I nodded and watched Cartman and his group walk away. I guess I got my chance to talk, even if it wasn't exactly what I wanted to say.

-

It was last period and I had Butters in the same class. We were doing some lab thing for Physics. Actually, Butters was doing it, I just watched.

His sense of colorful animals doesn't seem to surprise me anymore. Neither does his fruity watermelon smell. And it gives me something to look forward to on a long day to see him smile. He was like a little kid. He hasn't figured out the worse things in life because he'd too preoccupied with living and being happy. I, sometimes, envy that.

He picked up a light red test tube that, scary enough, matched his eye shadow today. He looked it over and wrote something down. He put it back onto the rack with the other colors and smiled my way, "G-gee wiz, Kenny! I'm s-so glad we're partners today!"

"Yeah?" I put my pencil at the tip of the table and watched it roll back. I did the same thing about three times before talking again, "That's probably because no one wanted to be my partner." It was true. The minute the teacher said to find a partner, everyone jumped up and grabbed someone else. I had just sat there until Butters shyly came my way. I was relieved though. Being the last person and being forced with someone else is embarrassing.

"Aw, don't think th-that way. I-I wanted to be your p-partner, honest," He sat down on the little lab stool and gave me a shiny lip gloss smile this time. He placed the notes in front of me and began explaining what all these test tubes meant.

You know what it meant? It meant a lot of blurred together numbers and words. Having him babble on and on about it wasn't exactly helping me understand either. I shrugged it off and when he was done I said, "Yeah. That makes a lot more sense!" I felt a little bad, since he was doing all the work. But everything I touch will probably get ruined. Sounds like something familiar.

"Oh!" A change of subject, "D-drama club is today I-instead of tomorrow! Sorry I-I didn't tell you before." He fiddled his fingers together, "Um… I w-was wonderin'. You kn-know the end of the play?"

I looked his way, "Only a lot. I only memorized that thing so much it's lodged into my fuckin' skull forever." I tried not to sound so harsh, but it was too late for that.

"Y-yeah. W-well, the ending is the wedding scene. Meaning," He looked around a little bit nervous, "O-oh geez…" his fingers were still at it, "…kiss. We never rehearsed that. And, uh… I didn't know…?"

My pencil dropped from my hand, rolled off the desk and landed on the floor. "There's a kissing…?" I stopped. This was a Disney movie. What was I thinking? There was no dialog at the end. Just really loud obnoxious music and us getting carried away on a silver carriage.

He nodded, blushing now. For something to do, other than look like an idiot, he stood up and picked my pencil up for me. "I-I'm sorry… We d-don't have to… I can tell th-the teacher not… to." He looked away, just as embarrassed as before, now having tears almost in his eyes.

"Please?" I wasn't kissing a guy on stage. That's where I draw the line. No number of puppy dog pouts will change my mind with that. I took my pencil from him and pretended to write down notes. Thinking about his watermelon flavored lips in my mouth gave me the fucking chills. The sides of my cheeks managed to turn red too. Oh God… It was a nightmare.

-

This meeting, they made me get fitted for the damn wedding dress now, too. It was just as horrifying as the other one, except a lot whiter and a lot poofier. They made me wear the damn make-up with it too. Fruit bags. Every last one of 'em.

We ran our lines more than I needed. But people were questioning something at the end. All the little girls screamed and the faggot boys shouted, "What about the kiss!? You can't have a wedding without a kiss!"

Butters, now fitted into his white tux, tried to explain while on the spotlight of them all, "W-well, I think it's o-only fair s-since two boys play the lead role…" He coward under his own posture after his sentence, knowing he'd get some pretty nasty comments after.

One red headed girl, who played an ugly step-sister, said, "What!? Who has a wedding without the kiss?! Cinderella goes through so much suffering! So much stuff from her sisters! Her dreams almost shatter!" Yes, she was one of Wendy's friends. "How can she marry the prince without a kiss!?"

I gave her a stare, "You want to be her? I wouldn't mind being the ugly bitch sister." It was the truth. All I wanted was a minor role. Anything lower than the top. I mean, I had the character whose name is on the title. The name that's going to be on all the fucking play brochures. It would be: Cinderella… Kenneth K. McCormick. I could already hear Cartman laughing.

After my sentence, Red sat back down. She knew she wouldn't be in good shape if she went against one of her own. Smart girl.

One guy from across the room shrugged, "Fine. No kiss, no play. That's that." He clapped his hands, as if dusting them off. "Let's see. What should next semester's play be?"

"Wait!" I screamed, without much warning. I wasn't going to Juvy. Not after I got this far! I swallowed my pride and whispered, "I'll do it, but only until opening night…" My face flashed red after the group's cheers. The taste of watermelons didn't exactly go well with me right now.

I made everyone happy again… Hooray…

Then, the bell rang on me.

Everyone packed their shit up to leave on buses. All, but one. Butters.

He ran over to me. Bad enough, I didn't have the time to change out of my dress yet. He looked around scared, "Y-your gunna do it? O-oh Jesus! I-I don't think I-I can, Kenny!" He was scared for his life, "W-why'd you change you're mind!?"

I looked at him, then away. I waited until the room was completely empty before I said anything else, "Butters. I can be completely honest with you, right?"

He nodded. I knew he would, I was just buying time for not wanting to explain myself.

"I got in trouble," I whispered, "I didn't join this because I wanted to. This is a punishment for beating Cartman." I tore my eyes from him, "…and if this play doesn't show and I don't go out there as Cinderella… I can kiss my ass good-bye."

He took a step closer, "G-good-bye? Wh-what are they gunna do t-ta you?" He asked, even more worried about this now.

"I'll be sent to Juvenile Hall," I said as plain as it could get.

His black mascara eyes went a little bit wider and he took the same step back, "A-are you serious? O-oh golly. I d-didn't know!"

I nodded slowly, "I'm sorry about all of this…"

"W-well, don't be sorry," His smile returned on me, "If it weren't f-for you, we wouldn't even h-have a play!"

I shook my head, "Wrong. Wendy would still be here… I'm the reason why she quit…" My head lowered. I felt like a complete failure now. Telling this to someone else made it sound ten time worse.

He shook his head. "No, y-you're going to be even better th-than that dumb old Wendy." He tried to smile bigger, but it had no affect on me. His eyes saddened as he watched me, "H-hey, don't let it g-get to you…"

I was thinking about Cartman, now. I ruined him. I thought about my mom. Then, my real mom. Thought about my dad, and how nice Cartman's mom was. Thought about those kids at the lunch table. Then, about Butters. I thought about those helpless teachers on the sidelines, and the dean. I thought about Wendy and her bitchy little friends. I thought about myself now… and how this was the end.

"Kenny!" The little blonde boy curved his finger at my cheek, feeling the stream of liquid there, "Kenny."

It overflowed from his finger and headed down the rest of my cheek. To my jaw. Dripped. "Kenny," He repeated. The liquid mixed with black. The makeup. The fucking makeup caked on my face. "Kenny," I'm nothing more than a bitch like Wendy. I'm much lower than that.

My arms grabbed him and I shoved my face into his shoulder. A failure like me couldn't possibly get any lower than this. I couldn't die any harder than this. My muscles ached with acid and my mind felt like a build-up of these stupid emotions. I wanted to fall apart. I had nothing, but this little gay wad to cling onto.

His hands held onto me. It was as if he felt everything I did for a second. He took my shoulder too and let loose. Let all of this shit out. All of these unwanted problems. We threw them away for this one second. I knew it. He couldn't smile forever. Everything I touch breaks. I've just broken the happiest kid on this planet.

"Don't cry… Please, don't cry…"

-

I walked out the door with my normal shit on now, but with dried on and messed up makeup. I felt like a wreck, but it couldn't get worse. That's what he said, before he left the class smiling and skipping away. He left me miserable and he left bright as ever.

"_At least, when it can't get any worse, all we can look forward is things getting better!"_

Made me think. It really did.

I took one step outside, then, notice it's raining… I guess, _now_ it got worse. The buses already left, so I didn't have a choice, but to just walk it out (yeah, that's what I said). The cold, water, and breeze helps nothing with this situation. I shivered, almost tearing again. Something fanned over my head. Once my eyes look up, they see a red umbrella. I didn't bother to look and see who it was. I just spoke out, "Thank-you."

"No problem."

My eyes shot up and saw Cartman by my side. I couldn't tell if it got worse or better. I just watched him, wondering what he was doing. "Where's Wendy?" I asked right at that moment.

"Left awhile ago. She was a little pissed. The hoe will cool down," He said almost casually. He held the handle of the umbrella sort of like a baseball bat over his shoulder. He didn't look at me, just smiled without a care in the world (at this point). He's a great actor. Since, I know what's going on behind the walls of our house.

I gave him a hard stare, "What was that at lunch!?" What did he want? I knew he didn't do it because of me. He's never that generous. He had to do it for something else.

He looked over with angry eyes, "What? You're going to bitch too? I laid off! If you want the shit knocked out of you, that can be arranged." He was ready too. His fist balled and everything.

I backed away and looked down, "No… It just doesn't seem like you." I had a right to be suspicious. Especially after what happened that morning. Then again, I didn't have a true right in saying what was _him_ when I hardly knew _him._

He relaxed a bit now. He thought it over before giving my predictable comment back to me, "So, you know what I'm like?" His sentence was filled with nothing, but doubt. Soon after, he uncovered his teeth with a smile and his eyes searched up at the gloomy grey sky that was crying. "Maybe," His jaw stopped for a moment before doing anything else (besides walking), "I don't want you gone as much as I thought." His eyes went to me now.

For a split second our eyes met and I looked down at the puddles on the sidewalk. His eyes are kind of… different when he's like this. Reminds me less of some psycho going around school only to steal people's pride. For some reason, this evil person is just a regular person like everyone else. And the weird thing is that he excepts it too. He isn't pissed. He isn't scared. He's normal for a second. He's like everyone else, but somehow that scares me. That pisses me off. Is he acting?

'_Can even the evilest people on the planet be trusted?'_

"Liar," It ran sour off my tongue. It was God awful ugly and I couldn't tell if I meant the nasty word, or not. How could I possibly trust these words he was sending me. He says them as if _he_ were acting in the damn play. Maybe even from Broadway. I wish it didn't matter so much. Couldn't I just let him keep spitting this shit at my face and taking it? Swallow his halfhearted spit. Why can't I let it go?

"Liar?" He asked, less harsh and more soothing. His innocence surprises me because it feels so real this time. It was as if I had said something that backfired and blew up right in his face. His whole head turned, twisting his thick neck with it, "If I wanted you gone, I would have beat you senseless. I did you a favor."

"Yeah!?" I turned my whole body to him and poked my finger into his poofy red coat, "You just want to humiliate me more, don't you? You're an unbelievably stupid fat fuck!" My heart stung and everything began to burn. My lungs were the only things cold. I inhaled the icy air and took in little crystals of rain that made my lungs shrivel and break off, "You are so full of shit!" My teeth were cold now. Grinding wet teeth through opened lips isn't always the best way to go. My feet stopped suddenly, having the little red shelter to leave me and welcomed the freezing cold sleet.

He turned once he saw he had passed me up. He gripped the handle tight between his large fingers and gave me a look of disgust, "Do you really think I'm _that_ self centered!?" He stood up tall and watched as I didn't answer him back. The obvious answer, "Why do you have so much trouble trusting me!? Why do you hate me so fuckin' much! I hardly _did_ anything to you!"

I wanted to go back under the umbrella, but I was too stubborn to. It was cold. I admit that, but I wouldn't be caught dead next to him right now. "Why? You're an asshole! You use people! You're so fucking fake!" I grabbed onto my arms that were covered my damp, frosted over sleeves. I shivered and let myself breathe from anger again. "You never tell the truth! Your whole life is an act, and I'm sick of it! How do you live like that!?"

"Don't assume you know anything about me and my 'life,' Kenny," He took a step forward so I was under the red canopy again. He wasn't happy, but he wasn't mad either. He was more 'sad' than anything. He wanted me to believe what he was saying, didn't he? Did he always have to be right? "If it helps, I'm sorry for whatever I did to you," He placed his free hand on my shoulder, warming the spot there, "But weather either of us like it, we're brothers." His arm fell limp, leaving my shoulder cold and empty again.

My, now icicled, bangs hung stiff over my eyes as I tried to look up through them. Somehow, I didn't see a point in making peace with him _now_ when we'd probably be fighting again by tomorrow morning. "Fine," I was going to say something along the lines of, 'You're not my brother yet,' but right now, it was getting cold. And it was only going to get colder if we kept standing there like idiots. The way I saw it, I could be pissed at him after I was in the warmth of our house (even if I still hate calling it _ours_).

He swung a warm arm snuggly around my frozen shoulders and lead us back to _our_ home, with the umbrella still above us. His generously chubby body slowly helped to thaw out my skin. He was big, dry, and had enough body heat to keep the whole planet from freezing over (Or I lied). Maybe just enough to keep me from shivering on the way back.

The wind blew at the only part of my face that wasn't covered. I hid my head into him, sort of like when we were at the movies. The only difference was that he didn't push my face away this time. I even felt a slight push from his arm and his hold got a little tighter. I gave up and let my own arms relax around him and let his body do all the heating for me.

Maybe I'd let him off with a warning this time. He couldn't hate me _that_ much if he backed off. I guess, it doesn't sound too weird that your parents are fucking all day and you want someone there. Me, I couldn't care less. I like the privacy. But for someone like Cartman, he's probably really use to the attention. Maybe I could give him a break.

Then again, I thought about what Kyle said…

"_Kenny, you can learn the hard way. Eric Cartman has never learned his lesson."_

-


	8. Untitled

Chapter Seven: Untitled

The next couple days skipped ahead. The week went by faster than I wanted it. And it was all the same too. All the days just sort of formed into one. It was a whole lot of nothing. Well, maybe some stuff, but nothing really. If I said I woke up on Friday and skipped those two days, I probably wouldn't have that much to say.

Only:

There was a whole lot of Butters, whining about how he's never kissed someone before (Which I still refuse to do until I'm forced to at the night of the play). I did, though, sneak my way out of doing three performances in that two days. The dean only said I had to be in the play, he never said anything about being there at all three nights. So, there's only going to be one play next (to the next) week's night. Two weeks from now, on a Friday night, seven o'clock. I also seemed to get out of singing too. They'll make a recording and play it for the singing parts. I only have to be on stage and look pretty. Which I'm not complaining at all.

There is Cartman too. It's off and on with him. Either he hates me, likes me, or he wants to be left alone. I blame the whole marriage thing that's coming up faster than my eyes (tomorrow). We got tuxes for it and everything. Anyways, back to what I was getting at before. I can't tell if he wants to make my life a living Hell, or call truce. I use to see right through him when he's pulling an act, but I'm not sure anymore. It's not exactly a choice to ignore him and move on. I couldn't possibly ignore someone in the same house, could I? I can't run away from this problem, like I have with others. I wish there was a sign or something.

After all my classes, there was one of those drama club meeting things. Everyone was getting really excited because the show was getting closer. All, but one. Me.

Me and Butters didn't really feel like rehearsing today. I really did feel the need to anyways. The sentences over and over again. I knew them a little too well.

We just talked amongst ourselves. Having a conversation about God knows what, when little Miss Bitch Testaburger entered the room. She looked around a little insulted that no one acknowledged her 'amazing' existence. Probably, because of the number one reason, that she quit on everyone!

She walked towards the stage, swinging her hips the whole way there and grabbed the microphone. She spoke into it, "Fellow drama club members, I know how much you have been suffering without your Cinderella." She did a little fake curtsy to prove her point, "I've had a change in heart. I would like to be back in this years production of Disney's Cinderella."

I smiled. No way! Really?! I wouldn't have to go through this!? Awesome! I almost pissed my pants when I heard that.

One of the students stood up, "It's too late, Wendy. You made your choice. You wanted to leave and quit on us. We found an even better Cinderella. Sorry, but you'll have to try out next year."

The black haired girl who was on stage just stood there for a long time. Then, little by little she began to laugh into the microphone. She watched as the students weren't laughing with her. She stood up straight now, deeply offended, "What!? You're serious!?" She placed her hands on her hips, "You're going to cast an amateur do and lead role?" Her arms were soon folded over her chest as she stared down the 'audience.' "Who?! Kenny? He's a guy! Are you _that_ desperate?!" She now, held her hands into the air as if taking a pose, "Your princess is right here." Her brown eyes met the back of the room, "Isn't that right, Eric-darling?" She brought him along because she can't fight her own battles, right?

And as expected the big asshole was leaning against the doorway of the dim room. He casually nodded to her and her ranting went on from there. His eyes didn't stay on her though. They went to me and he gave me a smirk, only to shake his head. Did he just shake his head, telling me she wasn't suppose to be the princess? I couldn't tell. He could have shook his head at me because I was fully clothed in the princess costume and thought I looked ridiculous. I'm going with that, since it sounds more like him.

I looked away from him and down. I didn't want to look at either of Miss or Mister popular right now. I held my hands together, praying for them to give Wendy the role back. I'd loose more dignity standing out on stage with a dress.

Wendy was now fighting with the student to give her the role again. That only resulted in her springing her head back up at her boyfriend and screaming, "Tell them I should be Cinderella again! I would be a way better one! I can sing, dance, _and_ act!" She wore her weak pouty look now, "Please? You think I'm a better princess, right?" She batted her fake eye-lashed eyes for the finale.

His eyes went to her, then back on me again. He shrugged his shoulders and went down my isle. He tilted his head to get a better look at me. He looked impressed and amused at the same time, then held his hand out to me, "May I steal your princess for a second, Butters?" He said, more of a joke than anything.

Butters, not even catching on to the joke, just smiled cheerfully and said, "W-why sure! J-just give him back. We still need to run lines."

He cocked an eyebrow before his mouth widened a smirk, "Oh, it won't take that long." He looked back at me, hand still outstretched towards me. He bobbed his head once, indicating me to take his hand.

I had a trust issue with him. I was more vulnerable than ever with this stupid ass dress on. I didn't want him to make a complete fool of me. Which I knew he would, since his little girlfriend is here. Then, I remembered what Butters said about looking forward to stuff when things can't get any worse (I think he said it a lot better than that. I'm not exactly good with words). I slowly watched myself as I placed my silk gloved hand into his large palm.

It was warm when he let his fingers fold over mine and he helped me stand up. He guided me down the rows to the stage. He led me gently, not rushing at all. Not trying to trip me when I was already stumbling in the high-heels. He even helped me up the stage steps and guided me next to Wendy with a hand set on my hip. What was he up to?

He let go and let me stand there as he took another look at me. "Well, you know what I think?" He looked over his shoulder, at Wendy, giving her a smile. This was where he would make a sarcastic joke at me, wasn't it? "He has the medium blonde hair," His fingers hovered over my hair that was now styled up into a bun. He circled around me again, nodding the whole way. "He has a nice small figure. I mean, the dress doesn't look _bad_ on him, and from the seats in this theatre, no one will know he's a guy unless they know him personally." He smiled with a laugh, "Which not a lot of people do." He stopped in front of me and touched his thumb to my chin, "Small chin, skinny neck, nice cheekbones. Again, not very noticeable. Hell, he could even pass as 'cute,' if people wanted to call him that." He, then, looked me straight in the eyes.

I almost shied away from him. Was he giving me compliments, or was he going to bust out a joke pretty soon? If he was, he should do it now and get it over with. I'm serious.

His full concentration was on me still. Just studying my eyes for a good long minute before having a sentence barely slid from his lips, "And his eyes." His brow furrowed down, not understanding something he was looking at.

My cheeks burned hot from his attention and I instantly looked away. I felt my heart beating fast in my chest and the room was spinning. My hand grabbed and crumbled the material covering my chest, trying to control my breathing. I don't know what I had just done, but it felt like I was running in gym class again. I think I was getting sick.

"What is that suppose to mean!?" I heard Wendy's voice screech over at us now. She stomped over to him and began her fight.

Then, he started to fight. Both nagging on and on about what they hate about each other. Pointing out each other's flaws. Which leads to something about him not being like Stan and him ending with making fun of her caked on make-up, saying she looked like a 'one night stand' (I think that's what he called her). That, of course, finished with her slapping him across his already bruised face and walking out the door. And that, finally, left both of us on stage.

Aggravation was all over his face, until his eyes lifted at me again. It melted away, into a neutral look. His face was still hot from frustration, giving him a red tint to his face. He took lazy steps my way, then stopped. He gave me half a smile as he leaned close to whisper in my ear, "I'll let you play Pretty Pretty Princess now." He passed me now and followed after his girlfriend.

I could only watch him leave and the door slammed shut. That left me staring at the exit. I knew better not to run after some asshole. Plus, I wouldn't risk anybody else seeing me like this in the hallways. I really didn't even want Cartman to see me. Sure, he's seen the make-up and shit, but not the whole costume (Until today). My attention shifted to everyone in the seats. I finally knew what it was like to get stage fright.

The lights were extremely bright and everyone was just staring at me. Whispering to one another, while I stood there clueless about what they were saying. I only had enough information that it had something to do with me. Instead of walking back to a chair in the audience, he ran back stage and stood there. I took a seat on one of the props, which I found out later was a plastic pumpkin, and gazed at the ground as my mind went somewhere else.

"K-Kenny?" Butters called out from the stage. When he didn't hear an answer, he made his way to the back. His head bobbed up and his smile brightened when he saw where I was. Small steps ran towards me and stopped, "Th-there you are!"

"Yep. Here I am," I said without much in my voice. If it were anybody else running back here I would have told them to fuck off and leave me alone. But since it was Butters, I knew he meant well.

"Aren't you h-happy?" He shot out his sparkling white teeth as he took a seat on a prop table next to me. His feet barely touched the floor as he swung his legs back and forth. Light laughter came from his mouth and explained his ridiculous question, "Even Cartman a-agrees you're a better Cinderella! Y-you really showed Wendy!"

I looked down at the glass slippers on my feet. I had a curse of small feet that could fit into the damn things too. I still didn't consider me being a better princess was a good thing. It made me feel like a full out fag. But once I heard the asshole's name from Butters, my cheeks felt warm again.

"H-he really likes you a lot," He called me out with a childish smile. He could totally tell my face turned red after that. He let out a short line of giggles and sat with his legs crossed at the ankles.

I tried to ignore the comment and looked away at a panted background with a large palace brushed onto it. "I have no idea what you're talking about," I did. I just didn't want to admit it. I think Cartman was actually starting to except me as a brother though.

"C-come on. Y-you couldn't feel it when he was l-looking in your eyes?" He saw that? …Everyone did. His fingers hung loose on the edge of the table and leaned closer to me, "Y-you might not only replace Wendy with the play, if you know wh-what I mean?" He gave a slight wink, helping me to understand what the 'if you know what I mean' actually _meant_.

I sat back, almost falling off the plastic pumpkin. Once my balanced returned I gave him a nasty look, "Ew! Gross, Butters! I'm not like _that_!" How could he even think that? We were about to be brothers, which would make it ten times more wrong.

He shrugged once, "Okay, K-Kenny." He hopped off the small table and leaned against it for a second, "B-but, you have to admit, _something's_ there. W-weather it's _that_, or not." He gave a brief smile, "I th-think you'd look kind of c-cute together." He walked away from the stage area, once he heard the bell ring, and called out one more thing to me, "You decide." He ran from the stage, probably meeting up with some of his other friends.

I stood up now and waited for everyone to clear the room before leaving towards the dressing room to get dressed.

What if there is _something_ there?

-

I carried my backpack on my left shoulder and made my way out of the small, and now empty, dressing room. It wasn't for two seconds when I saw that someone waiting out of the stage doors. I just kept walking closer, praying he was waiting for someone else, but since the place was empty, it was very unlikely. I stopped a few feet away from him and waited.

"What? I don't get a 'Hi, how are you?'" He asked with a sarcastic tone of voice. He lifted himself off the wall he was against and closed the gap for me.

My brow lowered, "Shut up, Eric." I mumbled before walking around him.

The front side of him followed my movement and he walked next to me. His face looked a little surprised as he asked me, "What did you say?"

I stopped and turned to him with an angry look. He was pretty stupid wasn't he? Could he not understand plain English? I wanted him to shut up. I repeated myself, "I said, 'Shut up!'"

He shook his head and his feet stopped the same moment as mine, "Not that." His voice was steady and it really looked like he didn't understand what I said. He was serious about it. Serious? Him? "You said Eric."

My eyelids uncovered more of my eyes than I would have hoped when said his last sentence. Did I just call him by his first name? I must have if he was repeating it. I guess, all this hanging around Butters kind of did something to me. And I hardly _say_ his name. I usually just call him asshole. I felt a little uncomfortable about this.

"_You decide."_

I did. I decided to play it off like nothing happened and turned my back to him, "That's your name, right?" I walked out of the door and into the hallway. The gym room was right next to the auditorium. So, a bunch of gross, sweaty guys were lined up by the water fountain.

The asshole followed me and started a sentence, "Yeah, but…" and didn't finish it. He paused and stared hard at one of the boys who was lined up by the fountain.

The boy looked a little familiar. He got out of the line and walked over to us, glaring back at Cartman through his messy black bangs, "Hello, fat ass."

"Hi, Stan," He grimaced through gritted teeth. I noticed awhile ago they the two didn't really get along. I didn't know if it was because of Wendy or because of Kyle (Probably both, now). But Stan and Cartman just didn't get along.

"So, treating Wendy any good?" Stan asked, still pissed

"Every night," Cartman smirked with victory.

Stan immediately got closer into his face. It almost looked like he was going to hit Cartman, who even flinched at his forced movement. But he didn't touch a single hair on him. He had a little bit more going for him and didn't want to screw anything up (Unlike me…). He pointed his finger into his face and threw a threat at him, "You _hurt_ her, you're dead!" He turned his back towards him being the 'bigger' man, even though technically Cartman was by a long shot. It made me wonder if he heard about the rumors going around at school.

Cartman just stood there silent as the team huddle by the water stared him down. He clicked his lips together and whispered, "Kiss my ass." before walking away in his half-way defeat.

I chose to walk next to him, looking his way every so often. I really hated the feeling of being sorry for him. And it didn't help that this might even be my fault again. "I'm sorry," I said a bit scratchy, even though the words felt like they ripped at the lining of my neck. This meant we were going to start talking again. I didn't like talking to him… but I didn't like him acting like this. So, it defeated the purpose of my nice silence. …But it was my choice to follow him. Damn it…

He shook his head and looked away, "It's not your fault." That didn't sound like he was happy again. "To tell you the truth, Stan probably has every right to be pissed at me," His head was still turned away, so his face wasn't visible to me. I didn't like that. It was as if I could see how he was feeling (Not that I cared). "I did hurt her, Kenny."

I tried to force a smile to show him it was alright, but he still didn't look at me. I just used a higher tone to show it, "Hey, don't worry. People have small fights all the time, dude. That's what being in a relationship's all about."

I saw the back of his head shake from side-to-side before he looked my way. His eyes looked very cold and sad, "No, you don't understand. I didn't hurt her with words." His head hung at his shoulders and he let his hands burry into his pockets, "I didn't mean to."

I took a step away from him. What? No way. The rumor was true then? I felt horrible now. Not that it would matter though, right? People would have eventually found out. I walked closer to him now. I really didn't know what to say to that. I couldn't just say it was alright, since it really wasn't.

"I wasn't going to do it again. It was one time…" He kept talking as if it made what he had done okay. "It's funny how she would come back to me, huh?"

So, he did this awhile ago? That must have been why Wendy hesitated to go out with him again. That must have been why she told me to leave when I brought the subject up. I didn't know it was like that. If I would have known, I would have never brought it up to her.

"I promised I wouldn't go back with her, but it's hard," He looked at me again with that same sad expression, "I really like her a lot. And she's the only girl that I've ever been with. She's different." His eyes got a little glassy before he looked away one more time, "I think I love her."

Why that hit me hard, I have no idea. That crushed me and I almost fell as low as he was right now. I felt the makeup irritate my eyes and I rubbed them slightly. Why did my eyes itch so much? The backs of my dry creaking hands whipped harder at my eyes and I felt it. They were wet. I suddenly turned my body in a one-eighty and ran off in the opposite direction.

Wendy + Eric Lovers Forever

I ran into a wall and fell on my ass.

Those words were written on a small sign on the door. A sign for yearbook couples was poorly taped onto the wall. Pink, happy, hearts, and in the middle the two of them. Smiling. So perfect for each other.

They were so perfect for each other it made me sick. The two popular students who were spoiled, had a short temper, acts very well, and can hold a grudge against anyone. They've probably been dating off and one. Wendy switching between Eric and Stan. And that's why they hated each other. But Wendy's going to have to pick one day. She can't have both. She can't have BOTH! She's a spoiled little bitch, but there is no way in Hell she can have both! And I was getting scared too. If Cartman really hurt her and she went back to him anyway… that might mean she could want him more.

And I couldn't ignore it either. I'd be stuck in the same house. Wendy would be over at _our_ house. She's be laughing and having fun with him at _our_ house. She would kiss him and touch him and love him at _OUR_ house. She would live at **_OUR_** house!!!

I stood up and ripped the small paper down. Shredding it between my fingers one at a time until it was just a bunch of little squares of confetti. I walked down the halls to get out of the school and walk back home. I tore down every pink little piece of paper on the way out.

Wendy + Eric Lovers Forever…

and ever…

and ever…

and ever…

and ever….

and ever…..

(And the Bears lost… Hip hip… here's your stupid fanfic…. L)


	9. One

Chapter Eight: One

After all that, I just wanted to take a walk and be alone. This is all the time I had left. I mean, in less than twenty-four hours it felt like the world would end. Well, not really, but sort of. I can't seem to make up my mind anymore…

My thumb pushes down on the small wheel, causing a few sparks to give dim flicks of light through the dark area I was in. I clicked the sparks a few more time until a small blaze came now. I brought the fire close to my face sucked in a deep breath through the now lit cigarette that was in my mouth. I closed the lighter shut and laid there again. Occasionally blowing out the grey smoke that I so desperately filled my lungs with. It made me feel warm inside, but that had it's after affects.

I positioned myself better in the small green tube I was in. I was laying in a fucking plastic tube at the nearest park. Only to stay out of the snow once again. This only meant it was going to be 'perfect' tomorrow. There probably won't be a damn cloud in the sky. It will be beautiful. Great. Everyone will be smiling.

My face is cold, wet, and creaked. Burnt by frozen rain, but it's a small price to pay for an addiction. Sometimes my face would be the first thing that gets cold outside. I'm probably use to it being covered so much.

How does a mother look at a son who has the face of another mother? My mom couldn't. Mrs. Cartman can… It's sad. She treats me so nicely. I really don't deserve that. She's so loving, I'm even sad for her because she's marrying my fucked up dad. She's better than that. Better than us. If she knew any better, she'd take Eric and run.

I said Eric again… It's Cartman! Cartman! CARTMAN!!!

…

I have my mother's face. Her eyes. Her 'smile.' I can tell. Because I don't have my dad's. I have his habits, fowl mouth, and rage. I wish I knew who my mom was. Where she is. What she's doing now… If I have any luck she'll come back for me. Even if she's a hore or a stripper. I'll learn to be one too. I'd turn that Cinderella dress in some skank outfit and join her on the floor, make some money. Maybe I'd be doing something more than sitting here feeling sorry for myself. I hope she's alright and not dead. If I even knew her name… (My dad knows her name, but will never tell me). I'd go try to look for her. Maybe get myself out of this shit hole.

What if she found Cartman's dad. Married him already. They'd probably make each other happy. They'd be nice together. I can kind of picture what Eric's dad looks like. He's very decent looking. I wouldn't mind my mom being with him. What would their kids look like? We'd have brothers too. Some with blue eyes, brown hair, very fine, and skinny. Some blonde hair, green eyes, very strong and tough looking. Would they have names? I'd name the blue eyed, brown haired one Travis; and the green eyed, blonde haired one Jake.

I thought about it again. If me and Eric had kids (Of course, one of us would have to be a girl, though) that might be what they would look like…

WHY WOULD I BE THINKING ABOUT THAT!?

No… Eric, or should I say Wendy, would have pretty little blacked haired girls with bright, beautiful green eyes. And nice strong looking guys with brown hair and honey brown eyes. Just how they're suppose to be. Nice, normal looking kids.

For some reason, I didn't like that idea. Would I have nice, normal kids? I couldn't possibly…

…

God, Himself, was crying at that thought, and every time I thought about Eric another angel lost her wings.

Thinking about his bright green eyes: Another angel!!

His small nice rounded nose: Another angel!!

His sadistically evil looking smile: Another angel!!

His large, warm hands: Another angel!!

His vaguely weird sense of humor: Another angel!!

The way I thought about him almost made it sound like what Butters said could be true. Almost! I knew better than that! Even if I just shot down more angels to Hell than I needed to. Words can't kill, can they? I've never seen it happen before.

The snow stopped slightly and I made my way out of the little playground. It was cold. I reached into my pocket to find my gloves. I had put them away to use my lighter. The only thing I found was a big hole. I turned around for a second, then didn't bother. Those little crappy gloves weren't worth going back for. I just put my hands back into my pockets, having the right side feel like air conditioner (Air conditioning pockets, nice. Knowing the media, they'd start making _those_ if they ever found out about that).

I was sick of people. They were the most rude, stupid, selfish, and incredibly uncreative things on this Earth. They should kill themselves.

My shoes crunch at the sidewalks people didn't even bother to shovel. I knew I had to shovel the driveway once I got home. That's way I was taking my sweet time. This town was so small. So ridiculously useless. So many stores, but you could only buy a couple things from them. That was the groceries, videogames, and beer. Some amazing town this was.

My attention went to the road. More mainly, road kill. Dead, drenched in blood. My foot stepped on something that clanked at the sidewalk. I let my bare hand reach down and grab the small silver thing. When I picked it up, it was attached to a small black collar.

Oh God…

I looked up at the small crushed body in the street, then back at the little collar. I couldn't believe it. You see dead pieces of shit on the streets everyday. But you would never stop to think you would actually recognize what one was. There was a name printed on the silver. I squeezed it tight into my fist and tried to run forward.

"SPRINKLES!!"

In defense, my body pushed backwards at a nearby car driving in the road. It swerved out of my way and the wheels grinded more on the dead dog's body. More on the unharmed head. The expression frozen in time as it's eyes looked up in pain and it's mouth wide. It all vanished under a bone crushing wheel. There was nothing left, but matted fur that flew away at the wind and the one blinded eye staring me down.

"Sprinkles…" He didn't do anything, but God made him suffer the most. I could tell. I held the small collar close to my chest and stood up. That little puppy was now nothing. All because of these rude stupid, selfish, and incredibly uncreative people.

-

I made it home and the first thing I noticed is that my feet didn't crunch when they hit my driveway. Someone had shoveled it already.

I heard footsteps and I was suddenly pushed into the garage door, "You fucking idiot! You come home just in time to not shovel the damn driveway!? It took me a whole hour!" It was Eric. He was pissed at me again. His hair looked wet and little bunches came out from his aqua hat. His face was hot and red, probably freezing his ass off out here, "Guess whose dad made me come out here and do it! Can you guess!? Huh!? Huh!?" He shook my shoulders into the door and screamed at me with complete rage.

This was my fault. If I didn't keep a better watch on Sprinkles, he wouldn't have died… and if I would have just sucked it up and came home earlier, Eric wouldn't have to do all the work. He wouldn't be screaming at me. I grabbed him and buried my face into his big, warm, snow melted chest and started to bawl my eyes out. I felt worthless. I had to be one of the most horrible people I've ever known. Plus, I was making Eric's coat ten times more wet than it already was.

I think I took him by surprise because both of our bodies fell back a little. "Um…" I heard from him through my random sobs. He sounded really confused, "Uh… Hey. It's alright. It didn't, you know, take me _that_ long to do."

My fingers gripped at his winter coat and I whispered I was sorry more times than I can remember. I fucked up everything, didn't I? I didn't want to be screamed at anymore. I didn't want to ruin anyone's life anymore. There was one more day left. It felt like I was going to die. Have my heart rip out from it's veins and I'd throw it up. Throw it up and just fall over dead.

His hands held my upper arms loosely. I think he didn't know weather to push me away or hold onto me. I was only confusing him more. "H-hey, come on. Cheer up. I didn't mean it." He was trying to comfort me with words.

It wasn't working. I just held onto him more and cried harder. When I cried so many times before it was different with him. The tears didn't freeze at my face. He stopped the cold. It felt nice and that made me keep crying.

His arms finally found their way around me and hugged me close to him. "Hey, stop it. I don't like it when you cry," that was an order. But it was one order that was hard to follow, since he was holding me tighter.

I didn't cry loud, it just came out in small hiccups. I was always afraid someone would hear me if I was too loud. Even if he could hear me (and I knew Butters did a couple days ago). I never would have imagined coming to Eric though. Why didn't I go to Butters' house after I saw Sprinkles was… I fell silent, calming myself down. I was scared. It was really scary how I fit into his arms so well. My arms were around him and they held onto his upper back, grabbing harder. I'm afraid to trust him.

He pulled me away a little bit and watched me. His hands rubbed up and down my arms a little bit, keeping them warm, "I didn't mean it…" He started.

I stopped him, "No.." My tears finally froze to my face and I dug into my pocket (The one with no hole in it). I held the collar by the black part and showed it to him. My lower lip shook and I felt the tears flood out from my eyes again.

He looked at it, then at me. It took him a second to realize what I meant, but he covered the hand that was holding it in his. He spoke out low, "I'm sorry."

Seeing his hurt face made my lips shake more. I let my teeth bite at it and I looked away from him as more tears came. I think I finally realize why I can't trust Eric. Why I can't trust anyone else. It's because I can't trust myself. I always let myself down.

I can't even do the most simplest things. That stupid dog wanted a home, I had one. I didn't give it one because I was afraid of what my dad would say. I should have been worried about the fucking puppy, not him!

He took the collar from my hands, then slipped my hood off, "Kenny." He fixed the dog collar around my neck and flicked the silver name tag, "He's still with you." He folded his thick arms across his chest, "And where are your gloves? Your fingers are turning purple."

I looked down at my fingers. They were. I pulled my hood back on and shoved my hands into my pocket. I didn't answer him, I just kind of stood there.

He let out one stale laugh and smile, "Let's get you inside. You look like you've been outside longer than me." Was he acting, or trying to make me feel better? Or was that the same thing?

He opened the door for me and I walked inside. I instantly felt my skin starting to defrost. I slipped my shoes off and saw that Wendy was sitting on the couch. I wanted to go back outside, but when I turned he was blocking the doorway. I just lowered my head and stood there .

The girl stood up and watched him coldly, "That took _forever_!" She leaned her hip to the side and looked out the window, "Stan could have done it faster!"

He slid his hat off, leaving it messier than it was before. He looked offended, but shrugged it off. He then, took his shoes off and walked towards the couch, sitting on it.

"Sorry, but Stan isn't here, is he?" I muffled through my hood and sat next to him. She pisses me off. I think I've said that too much.

I don't think she heard me because she didn't give me shit about the comment. She stood in front of him, "Well? Are you just going to sit there?" Her hands met her hips, expecting him to get up.

"Chill, hoe. I just got done," He put his feet up crisscross on the table, in a relaxed position. He tried to straighten his hair out of his face as he spoke again, "What do I look like? I'm not here to entertain you. If you need something to do, go in the kitchen and make me a pie."

She pointed an accusing finger his way, "I'm not your maid! And do you know what you look like? You look like a lazy, fat ass, boyfriend!"

His hands grabbed the cushions of the couch angrily, "I just got done shoveling the fucking driveway, hoe! I know if you just did that, you'd want a fucking second to relax!"

She stood tall and cross her arms, giving him a pouty lip, "But Eric, I'm a girl. You're suppose to do things for me. You're suppose to treat me like a princess." She stomped her foot on the ground and covered her face as if she were crying, "You're a horrible boyfriend!"

He stood up and went to her side, "No, wait! I'm sorry!" He was buying everything that actress gave him. I thought he was a little smarter than that, "See? I'm up!" He placed his hands on her shoulders, trying to smile, "I'll do whatever you want! Please, stop crying!"

"Re-really? Aw, thank-you!" She was smiling again and there were no tears in sight. I couldn't believe what just happened. "Then, you wouldn't mind going up to the movie store and getting us a movie to watch?"

His eyes went wide and placed his hand on his face. He mouthed the words 'damn it.' Then, nodded his head, "Um… Sure, Wendy." He picked his hat up and dragged his feet across the ground on the way out.

I stood up and watched the door. I gave the girl a dirty look before heading for it. This was the first time I saw the door he walked out of and actually followed after. I didn't wanted him to walk alone. If I didn't keep a good eye on him, he might leave like Sprinkles. That, and I didn't want to stay there with Wendy.

"Hey, Eric!" I called out, "Wait up!" He wasn't that far up the driveway. I ran towards him only to trip on a lace from my shoe. I flew forward and landed on my face. I laid there spread out on the driveway, feeling like a complete retard.

I heard him come towards me and leaned down, "Whoa, Kenny! Are you alright?" He held my arms and helped me up a little.

I pulled up from his grip and let my feet stand secure on the ground before I stood up. I watched him, still on his knees, "I'm sorry…" I knew I didn't have to say it, but I did anyways.

"Try saying Thank-you," He said as if he were joking. His hands went down to my shoe and began to tie the strings into a bow. He stood up and started back down the driveway.

I walked with him. "Thank-you," I said as true and honest as I could. I appreciate it a lot that he didn't come back at me with his criticism. I just heard him laugh after that. I remembered why we had been walking in the snow again, "I don't like how Wendy treats you." It was none of my business. I was regretting bringing it up now.

"Yeah?" His bright green eyes met the sky, "And why do you care?" He grinned slightly and looked my way now, "I thought you'd be on her side." The relaxed muscles in his face made his expression go neutral again, "But that's what I get, right? I'm not like Stan."

"And you don't have to!" I walked ahead of him and started taking steps backward, in order to face him, "You should find a girl who likes you for you, not someone who wants you to turn into someone else because of her stupid obsession!" I watched him with hopeful eyes, wishing some of that went to his brain and not in one ear and out the other.

"Well, once you find someone who wants to be with me, come tell me," that insecure joke went straight for himself. I didn't understand what he was trying to get at. Everyone in the school liked him.

"Dude, you're one of the most popular guys in our school! It can't be that hard to find a chick!" I reassured him with the biggest smile I could give him. Plus, I might know one other person that would want to be with him. Maybe..

He shook his head, "You mean the mindless bitches that hang around me for money? I'd rather stay single." He slowly peeled the gloves that were on his hands off. He looked at them, then back at me before actually handing them my way, "Your fingers are purple again."

A little less than obvious this time, I looked down at my hands. They felt icy stiff and were, in fact, the color purple. I went to grab them, but my hands were caught by the wrists. I glanced at him, a little confused. I thought that had meant take them, but maybe I was wrong.

"Your hands are small," He said now pointing out the obvious more this time. After a long moment, he finally let the warm material cover my hands. He then, continued what he was saying before as if none of that happened, "Anyway, people that hang around me think they're getting something, but," A smirk went across his face, "What they don't know, is that I'm just using _them_."

I gave him a sour look, but kept my defrosting hands close to one another . There was something about the worn in feeling of the oversized gloves that made him feel comfortable. I shook my head and gave a proud smile, "I figured that out already."

His eyes shined my way and gave a more welcoming smile to me, "Yeah, and that's why you're different. You know, it's kind of nice to have someone whose got their own opinion instead of coming to me asking. Weather you're on my side or not, I'm glad I got to meet you."

"What did you do with Cartman?" I asked really confused now, "You don't do _nice._"

He shrugged his shoulders in one quick motion, "You were nice first."

I opened my mouth to try to come up with a logical explanation, but I had nothing. I looked away in defeat, not liking it at all. Then again, when did I _ever_ get my way? "You're so fucking stupid…" I mumbled, shoving my heated hands into my pockets.

His hand come up and pushed me on the side of the shoulder. It wasn't hard enough to hurt, but enough to make me loose my balance.

I felt my shoes lift from the ground and my back hit a cold pile of snow. I felt like I was frozen there (It was so cold!). I didn't want to get up. That, and I didn't know how to at the moment. What was worse, the snow was beginning to melt and making my ass wet, and two times colder. My palms sunk into the snow and I tried to throw what was in my hands at him. The only thing was, it wasn't packing snow yet and the small flurries fluttered back into my face. "God damn it…" I cursed at myself, mainly for being so stupid.

Large hands grabbed at my wrists and pulled me up. The only thing he could give me once we were face-to-face was some teasing laughter. "Are you alright," He tried to get out between his snickering. He was a total asshole, wasn't he?

"Very funny," I said, not amused at all. I pushed myself forward and out of the snow, only to find out my foot was stuck in the pile. I slipped and fell frontward with my body against his, having my arms hook around his strong neck in defense.

His arms hugged at my lower half to prevent anymore damage I could have done (Knowing me, it could have gone a lot worse). From this close of distance, his emerald eyes were almost blinding. He didn't even look that evil. Neither sarcastic. I had fallen into a gap that made me see _him_ for the first time. I don't know how to put it, but he looked… attractive. He was a different person at this angle.

'_Can even the evilest people on the planet be breathtaking at second glance?'_

My face was burning with heat. I knew this. My thumbs searched the back of his neck before pulling his face down a bit, catching his scent. He made my skin tingle and my heart melt with a few breaths. My neck guided my lips up, passed his nose. My tongue licked at my chapped lips before letting them rest on his eyelid for a second that felt like ten.

I wanted those eyes. Bright eyes that matched every expression he made. Even when mad, he managed to get them flaring with hate. I hated him…

I came back down to Earth, seeing how short I really was compared to him. My hands slid from his neck, down from his shoulders. Off. I turned and headed down the sidewalk as I tightened the strings of my hood.

He just seemed to stand in the same place, stunned. He was just staring at the air where I use to be standing.

"Come on! The movie isn't going to buy itself!" I called over to him, trying to ignore what I had just done as much as possible. _I _don't even know what I have just done. It was stupid. I understand that. I just didn't understand that during it, I guess.

Wrong in so many ways, on so many levels, for so many reasons that earned me a awkward walk of silence. There and back.

Back. And the bitch was waiting at the door too.

"Eric! What took you so long?" She whined out from the house as we were still walking up the driveway. She ran out and snatched the movie from his hands, "You got me _this_?" She said with a 'this is the stupidest thing I've ever saw' voice.

I think that lit the fuse on the big guy, "What's that suppose to mean?!" He grabbed the video right back and stared at her, "You wanted a movie and I walked all the way to the movie store to get it!"

"Well, first of all, you took way too long to walk there and back. I was so _bored_! Secondly, I didn't think you were going to pick something that was totally gay!" She folded her arms with a pout, "You know I like romance movies."

He took a long second before he spoke back, "Well, I wanna watch _this_! We've been watching fuckin' _romance_ movie for weeks! I'm sick of them!"

"This relationship isn't all about you, Eric!" She pointed out, placing her hands on her hips.

"Yeah," He used the movie case to poke her in the arm, "It's all about_ you_! It's _you _want this! And _you_ want that! _You_ want the reduced fat milk with your Oreos! _You_ want the lead role of the play! _You_ want me to donate money to a fucking rainforest! _You_ want romance movies! And _You_ want me to be Stan!" His face was pure red by the time he was done with his list of things Wendy wanted, "This isn't about me at all! It's about _You_ and _STAN_!"

"Why can't you just do things the normal way? We wouldn't be having these arguments then," She was playing it cool right now. Being screamed at gave her acting skills a boost when she was playing the vulnerable girl. "You make things so difficult, Eric. I'm your girlfriend. Every guy in the school wants me. You should be treating me a lot better," Now, she was just a bitch. "If I want you to be more like Stan, then you do it. Everyone loves me. People just like you for your money. Including me," She said with a smile. "I'm gorgeous, you're not. I'm talented, your not. I'm smart, you're not. I'm nice, you're not. People really like me, no one likes you. Stan was so perfect for me. You're nothing compared to him." She pulled him closer to her and whispered in his face, "You loose some weight and I might even think of you as something higher than a piece of shit." She pinched his fleshy cheek and went to walk away, "Bye-bye, Eric-Darling!"

I gave her a dirty look and eventually flicked her off once her back was turned. She really didn't seem to know I was there. I could care less at this point.

I had turned around, only to find he wasn't by the doorway. He must have went inside. Right now, I didn't blame him for hurting her before. I'd probably do the same if someone talked to me that way. But why does he take it? He'll get mad, but after he'll just take it.

I took a seat on the porch and lit up a cigarette. It could possibly be my last one until all Hell freezes over tomorrow. I didn't want to talk to him about anything right now. It would still be awkward. It's still, even for me.

His eyes still gave me warm tingles. It heated the cold blood around my heart, as it beats faster. My fingertips stung and my arms ached. My stomach felt sick, but I couldn't help but smile.

I couldn't help thinking if he liked how my lips felt against his eyelid. But at the same time, I couldn't help thinking of how he might not have liked it too.

-


	10. Broken

Chapter Nine: Broken

I watched myself in the mirror. People had been over all day. Some random family member did my hair after I got dressed in my black tux. My bangs were glued back with some hair gel and my hair was just long enough for a damn downwards ponytail. Why did I have to dress up? This wasn't my wedding. I wasn't the one getting married.

"God damn it!" Eric busted the door open and walked inside. It took me a minute to understand what the Hell he was doing until he stood in front of the toilet seat. He unzipped his pants, "Fuckin' hippies! Won't even leave me alone so I can take a piss!" He was complaining to himself more than telling me anything.

He looked really nice in a suit and tie. It made him look all proper and shit. And his hair was put nicely, combed to the side a bit. It really looked shiny and soft. He didn't have tons of shit in his hair, it was naturally perfect. All the time.

His eyes striked me down and his hands reached up, covering my face. "Do you mind!?" He made it so I couldn't see anything while he finished his piss. Once he was done, he let go and flushed. "Do you have a problem, or do you stare at everyone when they pee?!" He pushed me out of the way to wash his hands.

I felt a little awkward. I wasn't looking at his fireman. But I guess it didn't help that I was watching him at all. It wouldn't be any better if I told him I was checking him out either (I wasn't… really. A lot). I let him finish up and he went out the door.

That's the most I've seen of him all morning. His family had been stopping him every two seconds to say how adorable he looked and pinched his cute chubby cheeks (The ones on his face). I hardly had a family. And half the people I was related to I didn't even know. Since when did I get a younger sister?

-

Everyone I knew from school came to the wedding, plus more. Probably only for Eric's sake, but still. We both sat next to each other in the rows of seats. Butters next to me and Wendy next to him. My dad up on stage and Mrs. Cartman somewhere in the back. Everyone was excited. Cartman was spacing out when his girlfriend asked him questions. And I was nervous as ever.

This was it. This was the day. The day I ruin a perfectly good little family. Me, Eric, Mrs. Cartman, and my dad would all be related. Connected as one. I didn't want this day to come. I didn't..

It scared the shit out of me when the organ started up and the first set of couple made their way down the floor. The flower girls, best man, bride's maids, and… Mrs. Cartman. She was really beautiful coming down the aisle. Her long white dress, flowers, and her veil that could be as long as her dress.

I wish I could have been the one to stand up and say 'I object!' when the time came. Dad would have killed me.

The 'I do's came and… It was all over from here on out.

The second our parents lips met, me and Eric's hands connected too. It was weird. It felt like we were the only two sitting there, watching the world go up in flames. And our hands reach for one another. After their lips separated, so did our hands. We were officially brothers…

-

Obviously, there was an after party. It was at some expensive ballroom place. Everyone stayed for it. Even me, sadly. I just sat outside while everyone else talked the day away. Or at least until sundown, when they all started getting drunk and dancing.

I was left, sitting on the little wooden shelter they used to take pictures in the beginning. No one took pictures now. Now was time to celebrate. Have fun. I wasn't up for that. My mind was somewhere else as my cigarette took most of the pain and turned it numb. My fingers and face were frozen without feeling. My heart was sour and melting away. Couldn't I just escape this place. I placed my face into my arms and let myself dose throughout my mind.

…

It's so deadly silent when you're alone. It just seems like the ringing of nothing keeps getting louder. It was sick that I could actually hear the little smolders of ash chip away. I want my mom…

…

"What are you doing out here?" …Eric.

I didn't turn to him. My face had to look pathetic. My eyes had to look red and frostbitten after the wind creaked it's dry air at them. I was dressed for a million dollars, but I still felt like the same poor kid. Me and my dad were just mooching off the Cartman's. Which I can fully call the McCormick's now.

"You should really wear a coat when you're out here. It's getting cold," What he said was true. The sun was starting to go down, and it was freezing out. His eyes looked up at the pinkish-orange sky as it danced further and further down the horizon. He placed his hand on my back and said calmly, "Maybe we should go back inside." I was never inside to begin with.

"Where's Wendy," I asked, ignoring any other statements he has given me. He should be dancing the night away with the little bitch. They are 'perfect' together. How I got the role of Cinderella over her seems to amaze me. She's way better in every shape and form. The smartest, the prettiest, and anything else you'd like to throw in there. I have nothing to compete with. I could be lower than low and that would still be too high of a category for me.

He let a small, mature laugh pass him, as he explained, "She drank a little too much. Stan and Kyle kind of took her home." He shrugged and took a seat next to me on the wooden rest, "I offered to do it, but they were cool about it, since this is my mother's wedding." I saw his smile fading away, just as the sun was right now against the crystal lake. His eyes searched me for a few minutes before leaning back a little bit more, "You smoke?" he said, more in a surprised tone.

I nodded to the obvious question, flicking away more ash that was left as it slowly burned away at the stick. I frowned and spoke quieter, "I could leave if it bothers you." I was use to people hating me for it. I'm sick of the people preaching me about it too. They think I'm not educated about what will happen. I know. I know it all.

He shook his head, "No, no. I didn't mean it like that. I just didn't know. I just assumed the smell was from your dad, but I was wrong." He tried smiling at that, but he realized it wasn't as funny once he said it out loud. His lips stopped moving for a minute. His eyes were on his thumbs, that were now twirling around one another, "Kenny." He just said my name, without having anything to say after it.

My eyes shined up to his face for an answer, "Yeah?" The way he said it, wasn't like any other time he's said my name. I couldn't put my finger on it, but there was something different.

He got up and gave me a wide smile, "Let's dance." He held his hand out, somewhat like he did at the drama practice he came to before. I knew he meant well, but…

I watched his hand, then his face. "Sick. I'm not dancing with a guy," I left it at that as I took my last hit and slingshot the cigarette butt down aimlessly, "and there's no music."

"It's just for fun, Kenny. Plus, you're going to be dancing on stage with Butters in front of the whole school," His eyes searched the outside. Not one person was out here. And since not one person came looking for me since him, I doubted anyone else would be, "No one's going to see." His shoulders bobbed up in a shrug, "I'll help you practice."

I looked at him like he was crazy, then shook my head. I let my hand fall in place with his. Could I trust him?

He helped me lift my body up gracefully (Which I didn't even know it could be done). He laced fingers with my right and placed his other on my hip. His hold was nice and loose, treating me with care like last time. His lips uncovered his white smile as he spoke, "Damn, Kenny. You're eyes are pretty."

I gently lifted my arm around his thick neck and stared at him wide-eyed. My cheeks burned after his comment and was left silent. I was about to pull away and sit back down, until we started moving. It wasn't as bad as I thought once we got started.

He took nice smooth steps I had followed. He actually knew what he was doing and he was a lot easier to follow than Butters. He held on with a gentle grip and with each step it felt like we had floated away from this horrible nightmare. His eyes were the new sun, making everything bright again. I could see so much clearer with him guiding me.

I wanted to leave this cold place and escape with him. He made everything better at this minute. I had forgotten I was out here for hours. It felt like he was beside me the whole time. My steps came close with his, reaching further into this warm atmosphere around him. My heart felt like it was pumping more blood than it should and my stomach fluttered from the inside out. I had been taken away by him.

His fingers unlaced and pulled in my body that had been closing the gap between us. He held me tight and very protective as if I were his. His steps slowed and rocked more, decelerating to a calming speed. Relaxing in a perfect embrace, us connected with one another.

My arms hugged at his strong neck falling into place with him. Once my head reaches his chest, we are only dancing to the rhythm of his thudding heart. It's scary to find myself smiling at the fact I that feel so complete in his arms. There was nowhere in the world I would rather be at the very moment. I felt high. He would be my comforting drug to take every night before I sleep. He feels like the one.

I could tell he was feeling the affects of this moment too. His face lovingly nuzzled close to my neck and spread his sweet breath across it. Those arms had taken me closer with a mild roughness, tightening his grip on the back of my tux. His full lips touched my bare skin while breathing out something related to, "Oh God, Kenny…"

I let my finger comb through his hair as his steady movements lead me. I shivered at the sensation of his breaths and tensed at the feel of his lips. I took in small quick doses of air as I was under his care. He was beautiful. I wasn't looking at him, but if he made me feel this way, he was. No doubt in my mind said otherwise. At this time, he was the most amazing person alive.

His steps stop. One hand comes to me and directed my head up. All there was, was him. His face right there waiting for me. His lips parted perfectly, wanting. His eyes half-lidded and dazed, glimmering at the sight of me. Could he actually be falling for me?

My body fell back, but went nowhere from his hold. He knew how to care for me. He gave me every reason to trust him. With only inches away from our connection, I could only see me with him. After this, I couldn't see us being apart. I could only give in under this treatment. My arms helped me move up and pressed my lips carefully between his.

Once my eyes closed, I could only see bright silver light. Swirls all around my vision. All feeling in me went static and my mouth overcame numbness from the many senses of delight his taste offered. Warm and fresh. The feeling so new to me. My legs turned to rubber in an instant, but with his grip I was going nowhere.

We separated with an objection to stay together, disconnecting with a light smacking noise. Taking a second to let the feeling register in our minds, we took in each others scent. With a shaky desire for more, they formed together again, drawing deeper than before. We parted and shared small tastes of each other.

It was about the fifth or sixth when I came to a road block. He nudged his head carefully into mine and whispered for me to stop.

At that second, I thought I had died. It felt like you were running a million miles and hour, then someone trips you and you fly forward with a crash. I rubbed my forehead against his and asked what the Hell he was talking about. I wasn't ready to stop. I wanted more.

"We're brothers," He whispered, fixing his arms more comfortably around me. He looked away, not giving me the full reason.

"That wasn't stopping us before," I assured him while eagerly pushing closer to him. I suddenly felt cold as his arms left me. I had forgotten how cold everything really was… and how dark the sky looked now. Reality hit me down hard and I remembered why I hated this place.

"If mom and dad find out…" He started, only finishing with a sigh. He made a seat again and looked out at the setting sun. Those eyes closed and his face snuggled close to his arm.

"We'll make sure they won't!" I ran my fingers through my gelled down hair nervously and tried to think of a solution. Then I thought, do I actually like him? Or was it just… the heat of the moment. My eyes searched him as if he had a huge poster hanging off him that answered my question. I stuck a stick in my mouth and flared up my lighter. I needed to steady my nerves. I needed my head straight right now. I wasn't going to get anywhere by freaking out. Give me a sign, God! I didn't know if I wanted him. I didn't know what I was doing. I just don't know anymore. He was the one, now he isn't. Now I have a choice. Now so many things are going through my brain.

Kyle telling me not to trust him.

Butters telling me there's something there.

Wendy just there and is his girlfriend.

My dad and new mother… what the Hell would they think?

What would my real mom say?

I don't like him like that… but I do. I want to kill him… but I want him. He's the biggest asshole… but so beautiful it hurts. I want to stop thinking about him… but the only thing that's keeping me going is to. I want him gone forever… but I can't let him leave.

"What's going on?" I ask, randomly as every part of my body starts to numb up. Everything aches. I'm in pain for not feeling. Some unknown pain that throbs and leaves me numb and hollow inside. "Why is this happening?" I can't stand this silent torture. It hurts, but I can't feel a thing. "I'm suppose to hate you!!" I scream out, causing me to cough right after.

"I can't answer that!" He said, slightly less aggravated than me. He knew how to handle this shit, I had no idea. His fingers rubbed at his head and he shot glances at the horizon like arrows. He must be as confused as I am. He already has someone. He looked my way now with a rough look, "We can't tell anyone, got it?" He pointed an accusing finger toward me, "If you say one word, So help me God…!"

I stopped him there, "You're acting like this is my fault!" I stuck my finger right back at his face, "Why the Hell would I tell anyone!?" I practically shouted a sore lung out. "So, don't threaten me while you know damn straight none of us will open our mouths!" I coughed once again afterwards.

He nodded with understanding, but still looked a little unsure. "Right," He spoke out while looking down at his hands that rested in his lap, "And none of that shit's happening again. That was a once in a lifetime thing." Those hands helped push him up to a standing position as he walked passed me, "I better go and check on Wendy now." He said only those words before disappearing inside again, but how he said it I knew he was leaving the party all together.

I hated to see him leave, but I didn't want him here. I let my lips curve with a pathetic smile, thinking about how his perfect little girlfriend doesn't know the first thing about taking care of him. She wouldn't do shit for him. She wouldn't love him. She wouldn't be satisfied by just looking into his eyes and holding him close. She wouldn't know those simple pleasures. She's way too spoiled for any of that. She probably got drunk off her ass so she could have her boyfriend wait on her all day tomorrow when her hangover takes it's turn.

He deserves better…

I sit there, hiding my eyes into my palm thinking about how much I wish I was good enough. But that would never happen. He said it himself. …I agreed.

This numb feeling on my lips would never go away. I could hardly bring my finger tips to it. It was a little piece of him that was still with me.

Small running footsteps began to head my way. They slowed as they grew closer. The bright blonde watched me with a little caution. He only stood a few feet away, fiddling his fingers together with nervousness. "W-well, hi there. I didn't know you were he-here," He managed out, his voice slightly hesitant. He knew I was.

I gripped his powder blue tuxedo collar and pulled him in closer. Without much warning, I forced my face forward and took his lips within mine. I wanted to know if it was the same. I wanted to know if there was a substitute for this feeling. I wanted to know if something could fill this empty heart in my chest. The only thing I got was the taste of his fruity lip gloss.

His delicate hand came up to my shoulder, trying to tell me it was alright. He wanted to think that. He always did. Things were so bad, but he'd just live life like a normal person. I couldn't understand why he did it, or how he could do it. But he does. He has been. He didn't resist when I kissed him, he just returned it.

He gave me this awkward feeling. Like, it was alright to let go of everything. My arms yanked him closer and wet streams of tears glided down my face like before. I was scared for my life. I wanted to leave, but I had no one to turn to. Save me.

"Butters… I'm not going to be okay…"

-

Once he heard that, he lead me around the building and to his parent's minivan he borrowed. I told him what happened, even though I promised I wouldn't. The only reason why I did, is because it felt like he knew what had happened anyway. That, and he would say anything, and he understood.

He drove me home and insisted on coming in because there was no one home. He made a minor complaint about how his 'parents would be sore,' but invited himself in anyway. I didn't mind. I could care less either way. If he wanted to, fine.

I let myself rest on the couch in the living room and laid there for a bit. Just looking through what happened tonight and how I never want to think about it again. Only, five seconds later it comes back to me. Perfect.

He took a seat right by my feet and looked around. "Isn't it k-kind of funny," He smiled now, "That I meet a new friend, a-and they have the same house as one of my-my old friend's?" I have to say, he got humor from the stupidest things. At least he was trying to find a good side to this though.

"Yeah, Butters. Real funny," I use my arm to hide away the light from my eyes and find myself asleep two seconds later. Of course, not before feeling any extra body on my chest. I didn't bother to move the kid. It wasn't worth it at this point.

-


	11. Read Carefully Before Answering

Chapter Ten: Read Carefully Before Answering the Following

(Note: I dissapeared off the face of the Earth! I came back though. :D)

Once my eyes opened, I was staring at the living room light. My guess is no one came home yet. It would have been off. I stayed there, letting my eyes get use to the light before looking out the window. It was still dark out. I hated when I woke up in the middle of the night.

I looked down, Butters was still on me. Innocent, just sleeping on my chest. He was a good kid, someone I trusted. Probably one of the only ones in this town.

I ran my fingers through his little mop top and pulled myself up and off the couch. I saw him roll over and mumble something, but I didn't really wake him up. I walked towards the light switch and pushed it down. There was another light on in the kitchen. I went to check it out and saw Cartman, "What are you doing up?"

"What? I need a reason?" He asked as he pulled a box of cereal from the cabinet. "I stayed up all night with Wendy and her puking. You'd think if you were drunk out of your mind, you'd fall asleep or something," He meant 'pass out' not sleep. He rubbed the small dried on piece of vomit on his shirt and whispered a swear word. "Fuckin' horrible," he threw the box on the counter, pissed.

"And you didn't stay?" I was still curious why he was home if his girlfriend needed him. It didn't look like he was in the mood to mess around, so I helped him by grabbing a bowl for him that was behind another door.

He was silent pissed now. The worst kind because you didn't know what he was going to do. Noticing I had a bowl, he walked to the refrigerator and pulled out the milk by its handle. "Stan was doing a better job at takin' care of her," he slammed the cooler door after his sentence, "She said I was only getting in the way." He snatched the bowl from my hands, then looked down at me with a slightly calmer face. He nodded his head up once, "Thanks." And began pouring the milk into the colorful sugar coated sugar pieces and the less tasteful whole wheat pieces.

I pointed out of the kitchen entrance and towards the stairs, "I could get you a new shirt. I know you probably don't want to wear Wendy's barf." Maybe? I felt a little weird after I asked. Something like I needed to leave him alone.

He pulled the fabric down so he could see the spot again. His eyes came to me a few seconds after that, "Could you?" He said more like 'Are you sure?'

"Oh, yeah. No problem," I turned and went straight for the stairs. I didn't know why I was in a hurry to help him. Maybe I didn't want to get beaten. That, or I was sick of fighting with him. It's easier just to please him.

I stopped at the closet. It's funny, actually. I have two shirts on my side and he has a million more on his. Our closet was one, but it was separated by one lonely hanger. I picked up one of his big blue shirts and was on my way back down the stairs. Making my way back, I slowed my pace once I got to the kitchen. I held the big T between my fingers as I watched him already sitting at the table.

"Jesus, that was fast," It looked like he had just sat down. He stood up, pushing the chair out with him. He walked my way and slowly unbuttoned his white pressed shirt. The two front flaps of the starchy shirt revealed his chubby frontal area. It slipped off of his big arms and piled onto the floor.

My eyes were on him the whole time. I couldn't believe it. I couldn't understand why I thought he looked so sexy. I couldn't understand why I was getting so hot from him. I felt the temperature rise in the room. I felt every inch of me wanting to reach out and touch him. At the same time, I couldn't. I was frozen there.

His hand came for the shirt and removed it from the hanger. He slipped on the navy blue shirt over his head and walked back towards the table, "Thanks." He said just as simple as last time. His attention was back on his food and continued.

I took a seat next to him, but didn't really look his way. I didn't want to bother him right at this second, so I spotted the newspaper sitting there. My hands came up and grabbed it, pretending to read the small words printed on it. Flipping through some of the pages, I stopped at a horoscope. I had nothing better to do at the moment.

_You are currently lost in what direction you should go because of a recent down fall. It may not be as easy to get back up as you think, but it's always important to keep moving forward. The person you think you should turn to may not have all the answers. Try looking for things on your own. To help you down your lost path, look for the number 11 or a blue heart._

Ridiculous. Horoscopes are so general it isn't funny. Anyone can relate to it. Everyone is always feeling 'lost' and have 'downfalls.' No one takes this seriously. It's just something you do when you have nothing else to do.

"You're not wearing a hood," I heard him say between his chewing.

"Figure that one out all by yourself?" I asked back, while doing the hard task of actually folding the paper back to where it was at first. Which didn't happen after the second or third time. I found a way to fold it myself and placed it back on the table. I decided to give him a very pointlessly, factual sentence back, "You're eating cereal at two in the morning."

He looked down at his bowl while having the handle of the spoon stretch out from his lips. It looked like he had to think about that before understanding. He took the handle between his fingers and finished what was in his mouth, "Yeah. Yeah, I am." He gave me this goofy smile I couldn't help but laugh at.

"You're so fucked up!" I spouted in syllables between my fits of laughter. It was weird. I would have never thought something so simple was that funny before. No one had made me laugh so hard before. I actually try to avoid doing it as much as possible. But sitting there trying to gasp for air and holding my insides so they won't implode on themselves, it felt relieving. It kind of soothed my mind for a moment, better than anything before.

Once the tearing and the silvery lights blurred out from my vision, I'd seen him laughing along with me. His hand out stretched to my shoulder and hearing his joyful voice coming out in incoherent hiccups of air. It had to be a sight worth seeing yourself. It felt like at that second, there wasn't a happier person than him in the world.

We calmed and gotten closer than we hoped for. We gave our aching facial muscles a break and fell neutral. It was silent now, and all I could hear was the beating in my chest. Full out thuds of throbbing nervousness. This wouldn't happen again. We promised it wouldn't.

He looked a little pained as he let his hand rise to my cheek, rubbing his fingertips there. I could tell what he was thinking, just from his eyes. Those green orbs practically ached with bending control. "Why, Kenny?" His thumb glided to my ear and those fingers massaged the back of my ear.

"Don't ask me," I whispered while tearing my eyes from his and letting them fall to his forearm. I wanted to pull away all together, but I couldn't leave something as comforting as his touch. I was even surprised our eye contact had broken so quickly under my shattered will power. I didn't want to be taken in, then rejected again.

But when he moved in closer in my personal space. His eyes closed shut once he brushed his lips across my forehead. I felt them move carefully as he lazily begged, "Just one more." Understanding him was hard, but he went on with his sentence, "Just one more kiss."

I had melted under him again. Everything that told me to stop was on hold and erased for now. I could only think of how much I wanted this to be real. Dreams are better than reality sometimes. I wanted to pretend like he wanted me more than everyone in the world.

'One more?' It sounds familiar. One more day. One more cigarette. One more lie. One more wish. One more life. If I learned anything, you always go back for more.

I had fallen. I lost against him this time. I let myself. To tell you the truth, I wasn't exactly thinking with my head. I could tell neither was he. But I would sneak in a few kisses with him.

That is, until Butters came into the room, yawning and stretching. We both took our original spots. Cartman with his cereal and me with the paper. He rubbed at his eye and he took a seat with us, "Hiya, fellas!" He managed to smile through his sleepiness.

"Hi, Butters," I greeted while putting the paper down, not even reading it in the first place. It was a little awkward, but I could tell he didn't see much. Cartman made sure he pulled away fast enough. It wasn't like I cared that he saw, either. He already knew.

But Cartman didn't know that. He was busy shoving his face with the soggy cereal, and trying to fight off his bright red flushing. "Butters," He replied back with a bitter tone, in between spoonfuls. Doing all, while rolling his eyes with it.

He just smiled and took our simple 'Hello's. Aqua eyes hit me, then Cartman, then me again. "W-well, I'm sure glad you two are getting a-along!" More than he ever could know (Probably knew). His fingers intertwined with one another nervously, trying find more to say.

Cartman beat him to it though. He sat back, with one arm hanging over the backrest of the chair, while the other used the spoon to steer all the excess milk in the bowl, "What are you doing in my house, you black asshole?" He asked, full aware that Butters had to be one of the pastiest, whitest white boys in our school.

"W-why, Kenny invited me," He answered with a squeak. His hands motioned a little quicker, knowing he was in trouble.

The only thing was, he was getting me into this too. Those emerald eyes darted my way, glowing fiercely. "You _know_ this gay-wad? Since when!?" He shouted my way, then looked at Butters, who was now watching him back, "What the fuck are you looking at!?"

"N-nothin,' sir," He looked down into his lap, as the small blonde bangs hung lower to his eyes. He mumbled an 'Oh Geez,' while occupying himself with his hands some more.

I spoke up, "I think you're overreacting. It's just Butters. He's not doing anything." I sat back a little and folded my arms. I kind of felt bad for the kid. He didn't really fit in anywhere else.

"Overreacting!? He's a fucking bitch!" His finger pointed at him, just barely touching his forehead, "He's not allowed in my house! He's a freak! He's a fucking hippie!" His finger went straight for me, even jabbing my chest a few times, "And admit it! If he wasn't in the fucking hippie play, you wouldn't be hanging around this black jackass!" So, he _did_ know how I met him.

Butters' big, wide eyes looked up to me. He knew that was true. I couldn't deny that it was the truth. But so many things fall into place too.

I grabbed his arm so his finger was no longer stuck out at me. I leaned forward, getting into his face and giving him the hardest look I could offer. "I wouldn't know _you_ if it wasn't for your slutty ass mom meeting my dad. And I wouldn't have to be in that play if it wasn't for _you_!" Seconds after, it felt like I've just been fighting about this way too much with him. I knew damn well it was my fault anyway. "Just lay off him," I shook my head, leaving it at that.

It didn't look like he was giving up though. Instead of facing me, he went straight for Butters, "Just get out of here! If I see you here again, I'll kick you right sqau' in the nuts!" He waited for the little boy to move. When he didn't, he stood up and slammed his fists into the table.

"F-fine, I'll go," Butters said in a small solemn way. His arms helped himself up and his eyes went towards me. He slowly came my way with a smile, while planting a kiss on my cheek. "Thanks for inviting me anyway," His watermelon scented lips uncovered his pearly whites, as both hands rested on my shoulders.

For some reason my face burned and my cheek went numb. "Sure," I answered, trying not to look straight at him.

Cartman stomped over to him and pulled him away from me, by nothing but his powder blue collar, "I said NOW!" There was something in his frozen green stare that made it look like he was worried. His voice had taken the nearest exit out, leaving him with an absence of words. But he swallowed his fears back hard, gaining more space between them, as his thick eyebrows melted the iced over terror inside them.

The strangest smile glided across the small boy's pale face. Cheek to cheek, showing no sign of innocence like there usually is. His two palms rested at his hips as he brought his head forward, closer to Cartman's face, "Whatever you say, Eric."

Cartman shied back a bit, eyebrows bolting upward and his eyes freezing over once again. He almost stepped back even. It almost looked like he was being threatened.

Butters let out a small giggle and spun around on his tips toes, gracefully making his way to the door. "See you tomorrow, Kenny!" Another fit of giggles was freed from his lungs before making the outside his new entrance.

I gave Cartman a weird look, which only gave me a bitter one from him. "What's your problem?" I made sure I returned the favor.

"You actually like that litt-!"

"Maybe I do!" The words practically exploding from my mouth, shoving the rest of his sentence to the side, like the twenty-five cent shit at a garage sale.

"He's a _freak_!" Cartman's voice went even louder and twice as powerful than mine, having his vocal chords screech too high when he got to the 'EK' at the end.

"And you're an asshole," I added bluntly, without much more emotion. Still sick of fighting with him. There wasn't a point really. He'd find a way to be right. He'd find a way to win. Weather it was lying, cheating, or begging, he'd do it for that big ego of his, that may, in fact, be bigger than his whole body, times two.

His voice went quieter, but still the same amount of anger, "No. You're the asshole, He's the dick, and, screw you, I'm going to my room." He stomped away almost taking the chair that was in his path.

But I'd be damned if I let him get the last say in any of this, "It's my room too!" I screamed out to him. After, feeling a little shaky and tired. Now, that I think of it, that was the stupidest come back anyone has ever been thought of.

-

A couple hours passed when I had given up on yelling at the door and trying to win a fist fight with it, when I finally gave in and just laid down on the carpet, eyes watching underneath the small creak of the bottom. The light was on, he wasn't asleep. "Lemme in…" I whined once more with a scratchy voice, before my eyes went against everything I stood for. I fell asleep with my cheek sunk in between the scruffy blue carpet, and forehead pasted to the wooden door.

-

My eyes opened, feeling less heavy as before, now staring into two generic eyes. I rubbed the backs of my hands to my lids and looked at it again. It was a little ragged doll with the name "Polly Prissy Pants," named on the small tag on it's ass. I wondered if Butters left this pink dressed blonde curly-Q here. I thought twice, when I noticed I wasn't on the couch. I was, somehow, in the bedroom, sleeping on the bed.

My feet reached the floor to stand up, and looked at the clock that read four passed noon. I was about to lifted my body up, until I felt an arm snake around my waist. Eric?

My eyes met with the small boy laying down next to me. Butters…? I watched him confused, wondering why he was here. Why right now? Why when Cartman told him off?

"Hey," he hummed through his throat as he lifted up to his knees and held me closer. I watched as two painted fingers played with the long strands of my bangs. "Eric's out with his girl. Want to have fun?" Why didn't this sound like the little boy from drama class? The little stuttering boy with no self defense.

I couldn't really move. More from shock, than anything. Plus, those little pasty arms were like hooks, tight around me. I could smell strawberry from his breathing in my ear. The sweet and tart taste of fruit's vice versa flavor, as those lips came to me. It left me dazed with an aftertaste of bitter sugar (Sweet 'N Low).

"I bring destruction and disarray to the world…" He whispered those words with a cutesy tone. His hand grabbed tight to the back of my skull, holding by my blonde locks, as he pushed me forward and down to the floor. He sat with a smile, flicking out a silver nail file to shave down at his baby blue fingernails. "I am Professor Chaos…" His smiled widened and blew at the remaining dead nail dust, "Creator of destruction and DOOM!" The pointed end of the nail file was at me.

I just kind of sat there, wondering what on Earth he was talking about. "No, you're Butters." I pointed out with a stiff '…Kaye,' watching to see if any of this was going to register through my brain properly. …Any time soon.

"Y-yeah, well… Y-you see," He rubbed his fingers together in thought as the next sentence boomed from his chest, "That's my alter ego! I use Butters to throw everyone off!" He plopped up to his feet and pointed at the door, to a ginger kid standing in the hall. "And this is General Disarray! Kneel before our mighty…" He took a second to find a word for his sentence, he obviously didn't prepare for, "Power!" He let out a sinister laugh, that sounded more like a dying giraffe.

Bored already by his 'mighty power,' I got up and looked at both kids, wondering if they were serious or not. I shook my head, "Look. I'd really love to stay and, you know, be enslaved by your 'almighty power of DOOM,' but… uh… I'd rather dress up as a Mexican tap dancer named Skittles the Clown." I gave him a slight wave, while walking to the direction of the exit, towards the gingerly challenged kid, "Sorry, Captain Chaos."

"W-wait!" He shouted, pulling at my arm weakly, "You're our first victim! Y-you give us a bad-bad name if we fail capturing our first human slave!"

My brow went up, "First… _Human_ slave." This was worse than watching the colorful mindless cartoon that the T.V. provides today's youth. No wonder so many kids are messed up in the head. Imagination is a fine line between mentally insane.

He nodded childishly, not letting go for a second, "Yeah! My-my gerbils of DOOM are at home. Th-they were the f-first!" He tried to pull off an evil face, which I'd give him effort for trying, "M-my destructive minions of DOOM!" Then again, I'd give him an F for false creativity.

My eyes just happened to roll on their own. They had to have done it sooner or later. This was a bit too much for me, and I could take a lot. I was actually starting to agree with Cartman. He is kind of a freak.

"Y-you wouldn't mind just h-hanging out for a little bit. W-would you?" He begged with a full out puppy dog pout. If I found whoever invented that, I'd go Mr. Chaos on their ass and kill them myself.

"But Professor Chaos…!" The ginger interrupted, as if this were some kind of horrible drama show. One with no commercials… and too much talking about nothing. Evil twin sisters, false weddings, intermarriage, …broccoli cheese salads, you name it. All the ingredients for the worst sitcom.

I looked back into those wide eyes, almost shooting myself in the _face_, while saying, "Alright, alright. I'll hang out with you." I could just picture myself digging a big hole and sticking myself in it. Just burying myself alive, and then magically surviving, only to appear at this kid's doorstep in the morning while he's eating his rainbow flavored fruity pebbles.

"You mean, go out, like as… Boyfriends!?" His eyes went wider. Any wider, they'd fall from those pretty blue shadowed lids of his.

My face went closer to his, giving him the grimmest look I had to offer. "Don't push it," Blowing the whispered words at his face, and unbuttoning his arm from mine.

-

You think a guy would get tired of shopping malls, color coated cartoons, and sweet tea after awhile. I know one who doesn't. My brain almost turned to mush after our little 'date' and oozed out my ears. I felt pretty ridiculous with him. Even though half the people around us couldn't tell if he was a girl and I was a guy, or he was an extremely gay guy shopping out with his favorite 'girl friend.' That only made me keep my hood on. Reminder to self: get a haircut soon.

I finally got home around seven and went straight for my bedroom. The day with 'Professor Chaos' wasn't exactly worth it. Then again, it kind of was. I was starting to get use to the little girly guy.

I opened the door, seeing Cartman laying on the bed. He's been going to sleep a lot earlier lately, besides last night for many reasons. He hasn't been looking that well, now that I think of it.

Not that I would notice, since all I do is scream at him. I blame that on myself because the school play in coming up, and there's a huge stressing tension in the pit of my stomach that leaves the back of my throat with a sour taste of vomit.

I guess, we've both been stressed. Him dealing with that bitch of a girlfriend, but you know how that goes.

I came to the bed and sat down, giving his back a little rub, trying not to scare all the living life out of his resting body.

He rolled over halfway, trying to squeeze his eyes open, "What?" He mumbled under his breath, not really wanting to 'wake up' just yet.

My fingers ran in circles on his shoulder now and I asked my question, "You alright?" I wondered how many nights I've wanted to say that.

"Just not feeling good," He got his body to a sitting position and let out a noise of distaste. "I just… I don't know?" His eyes went on me, looking me over, "Where'd you go?"

"Butters," I shrugged once, "Just hung out for awhile." It wasn't meant to sound like a big deal, because I knew he probably didn't want me hanging with him.

"He's a freak," His hands held the sheets tight. He made that real clear for me. I don't know why he hated him so much.

"Yeah," I said, half agreeing, half just to say something so there wouldn't be a long awkward silence.

"You like him?" He asked now, less angry and something else. Something I've never heard from him before.

I shrugged again, "He's alright."

"Oh." That was it. Before sitting there without anything else to say for about five minutes. After his five minutes were up, he laid back down, following him with snores.

If there was anyone that I wanted to be crazy about me, it's you, Eric. I love my brother. Some brotherly love, huh?

-


	12. Switch

Chapter Eleven: Switch

I watched myself through the dark shadow on the ground. Pretty much doing exactly the same things as me. Waving, walking, and giving a double finger. I laugh at the small outer lining of myself, looking twice as tall outstretched on the pavement.

"Can you find that much fun out of a fucking shadow?" Cartman called out to me as he locked the front door behind him. I heard his steps come closer as his shadow now dominated mine. Bigger and taller.

I just let my stare trace the curves of his shade, then looked back at the real thing. My cheeks set on fire as I felt his breaths hit my neck from his closeness. I turned back forward and began taking our walk to school (The one we do, pretty much everyday). "Fun sucker," I whispered, wishing I could have thought of something a little more… what's the word… affective?

-

Big blurs of voices just swallowed me once I entered the lunch room. It smelled like the same staled grease odor like it did every day. Those lunch ladies probably sweat that shit and sleep as it's all embedded in their skin. They probably smell like shit even when they don't come into work.

Everyone likes to stare at people who walk by. In this case, me. Talk, laugh, watch……… talk, laugh again. Like my face? Take a picture, then masturbate with it later, 'cause I don't have the time for that right now. The only two tables that look familiar is mine and His. His, meaning the royal pain in the ass, sitting along side with Miss bitch from no fucking return.

I manage to look his way. He was like everyone else. Talking, laughing, with those retards he calls friends. His eyes suddenly lift off them for a second and hit me, just like everyone else. Instead, though, his lips curved up to a smile and mouthed the word, 'Hi.'

I lifted my arm up to wave back at him, when I felt it being pulled and my back was turned at him. My attention was now at the blonde boy in front of me, who was now dragging me away to my proper table. "Hey! What's…?!"

It was Butters. He sat me down in the plastic butt rest teachers like to call chairs. He gave me a glossy smile sitting next to me, "I.. I just wanted to talk to ya."

I let my elbow rest on the table, as my cheek when to my hand. My eyes were searching Him again, who no longer knew I existed, pretending to pay some attention to Butters. I cut him short though, "If it's about the play, I don't wanna." Threatening, sort of, but not really. I seriously didn't want to think about it until it was all done and over with. Maybe even later, until I could laugh at myself about it.

"Oh…" He looked a little disappointed. One finger came up to his puckered lips, giving me full view of his pearly pink nail polish. "W-well, I was gunna help you get-get out of it," He shrugged once, "B-but I can see you w-want to do it a whole lot." He began to stand, obviously be late to his next class, since the bell had rung.

"Whoa! What!?" I reached for his wrist and pulled him back, almost yanking the thin arm right out of it's socket, "Tell me more!"

He gave me a pleased look and took a seat, "Y-yeah, I know someone who wants to be Cinderella and knows all the words. They're amazing." Shiny lips laid right over his sparkling whites, knowing I'd be thrilled to hear this information.

"Really?!" I almost pissed my pants right there. Through excitement and curiosity, I asked, "Who?!"

"They told me not to tell until opening night," He batted those fake, pressed on eyelashes of his and leaned forward, "But we still needed a curtain closer. Mind doing it?"

Mind doing it? I'd be the best fucking curtain closer in the world if you got me out of this one! That, and I could care less which one of these little make-up packers was the next princess, I just didn't want to be it. "Sweet! Yeah I'll do that!" My hands were practically shaking.

"Good," He giggled, but watched me head-on, "But this isn't free."

All excitement drained from my body at that second, "What?"

"You have to do something for me," His smile widened, childishly.

"Um.."

"Don't think you're getting away without a kiss," He giggled again, one press-on eyelash winking.

"Um… Sure, whatever. After school," I pointed my thumb backwards, as if _After school_ was an actual thing and standing behind me. I didn't mind one stupid kiss. It wasn't like I haven't before.

"In-in front of everyone," He twisted his finger, now pointing the plural verb that _was_ everyone in the room. This greased up area of, well, Hell. Or Doom. You pick.

I hunched forward and whispered to his face, "I'm not kissing _you_ in front of everyone." Blunt enough as that sounded, it sounded just as dull coming from my throat.

"N-not me," He laughed, shaking his head as if _I_ were the dumb blonde here. His pointer finger stuck out from the rest, aiming right at _His_ table, "Eric."

My eyes went wide and my spine went erect at his statement, "Hell no! Are you crazy?!" With courtesy, I got a few ugly stares my way.

He shrugged, "Then, kiss me at opening night." He came forward with a plotting smile and rested his hand near my inner thigh, "I knew you liked me more anyway."

My mind went from zero to seventy miles an hour, kind of like that V2 ride at Six Flags. I swallowed acid, choking down my own spit as I thought of how it might just be stupid enough to get this kiss over and done with right now. I shook my head, not believing what I was about to do.

I stood up and put a hand on his shoulder, sputtering out a, "Thanks for making my life Hell."

"Don't mention it," He smiled, now sticking his tongue out between his teeth. I noticed a small tongue ring with a little blue heart on it.

_Blue heart_

God damn it…

I had a bad feeling about this The table all the way across the room, looked like it was two feet away.

Already, had I walked that far?

Already, was I standing by the table?

Already, was I staring at him?

Already, did everyone get silent when he stared back?

Already, did he stand up and walk over to me?

Already, were we looking into each other's eyes?

"Kenny?" I wish he didn't say my name like that. It made him that more… And the small, confused look on his face… He just… He knew I would never walk up to him like this out of the blue. I wouldn't be caught dead at his stupid little fake table of brainless airheads, talking about God knows who's fleecy T was on sale today. It was a disease infested with… snobby little bitches with their noses glued to the fucking ceiling. "Is everything alright?" He asked, now, that I wasn't even paying attention to what he said in the first place.

It looked like there was something wrong. It looked like I just got in a car accident and I needed a ride home. I was scared just thinking about what I _had_ to do. I couldn't even breath right. Butters was still at the table, watching me. Now, I had millions of spotlights on me. It _was_ the fucking play. This is how it would feel if I was up on stage with my little frilly dress with Butter-Scotch. I was going to be sick if I didn't hurry and get this over with.

"Something's wrong," He stated the fucking obvious. God! His eyes _have_ to be so deep and green right now! They just _have_ to be sparkling with that cute desire to wrap his arms around me and never let go. He just _has_ to be acting like this right now!

Thanks! Thanks a lot! Thanks Butters! Thanks Wendy! Thanks Dad! Thanks Mom! Thanks Mom! Thanks Brother! Thanks Sister (that I never knew I had)! It was the fucking Grammies and I won! I just won! Yay! No fucking Cinderella for me! Instead, slap me across the face and bring me back to reality! And Shove my lips on his so I can be the laughing stock of the school! Thank-You! Thank-Fucking-You! See you next year!

Our lips parted and he just gave me that confused stare. I had exactly five seconds before he realized what the Hell I just did.

Five… Four… Three… Two… One… BEEP! Time's up!

"Oh my God!" Wendy shouted with a window shattering screech, "Oh my God! Oh my fucking _God_!"

I knew when I had to leave. I untangled myself from his hold and stumbled over chairs and anything else in my way to get out of that place. _BAIL!_

-

I just did a dare without getting a cent off it. Wow, Mom would be proud if she could see me now. Too bad she took Kevin and left. Too bad.

-

I lived out the rest of the day out of the big guy's sight. Rumors were spreading like a fucking wild fire that he was going to rip my head off and use it as… well, I don't really want to get into that much detail right now. My stomach was sick already. I knew, If I saw him I was dead, just put it that way. It least, there was no more Cinderella for me.

-

I could have survived the walk home if it wasn't for…

"Kenny!"

I reached for the door knob, only to be thrown down the porch, where my head slammed into the steps and landed straight on my back. I think I heard it creak. My skull or my spine? I have no idea.

I tried to get up, but before I could even sit up, he had a hold of my collar. He helped me up to my knees at least. "What were you thinking!" He shook me, dizzy and internally bleeding. Maybe? I can't remember.

I couldn't even answer that question. It was not fair. Because one: It felt like my brain broke off it's stem and just rolling around my skull, and Two: His huge fist pounded towards my mouth.

_Split!_ Dripping. Red streaked down my chin. Falling to the white ground. Turning to neon red. Then, Pink hole.

"You made me loose every chance with Wendy!" His knuckles scored my face again. Then, again for no reason. "Wendy's gone!" Then, again. Sick of my face, he forced his fist into my ribcage, "God damn!" He almost started crying as he began to beat away at my body.

He finally got silent, and my pain just started with a frost biting, numbing cold. A silver starry background twisted around him in my vision. Right now, I didn't think my brain liked sending signals to my eyes well. "Pussy…" I choked out, barely.

He threatened with another punch, "What did you say!?"

My eyes rolled up to my black eyelids and stared, "I helped you get Wendy. If it wasn't for me…" I choked again, not breathing right, "You wouldn't have even had her." I let myself laugh at that. He was getting a pole shoved up his ass over a fucking girl who didn't even want him in the first place. "God, don't you feel stupid."

He let another fist slam into my chest, "You think this is funny! I wanted to marry her!" He was crying! He was fucking crying! What a God da- BAM!

I laughed, more blood passing my throat. Laughing out blood, "Pussy!" I let my back collapse on the ground, holding my chest from numbed pain and a lack of oxygen. It was hilarious!

The look on his face! Everything! Pupils small and lids wide, him pinning me down as if I would move. Teeth glued together and hands gripping my neck, as if I didn't have a problem breathing already.

I just laughed. Laughing, laughing, just like at breakfast laughing. Poor Cartman! Poor, poor Cartman! No more Wendy? It wasn't like she was going to ride your fireman anytime soon! I even kissed you before she did!

"Shut the fuck up!" He screamed over me. Face loosing anger, now a little scared. He wasn't in control of me. He couldn't control what I did, "Shut up!" That scared him. "Stop it!" I could hear the little voice inside him saying, "Listen to me! I'm suppose to control you! I'm suppose to control everything! Everyone! I'm the best, not you! Don't even think you are! Listen to me!"

He couldn't shut me up. Nope. Never. I would laugh, laugh, laugh and keep laughing until he was balling with tears.

"Stop it!" He crushed my face with his knuckles again.

I laughed.

He pulled my collar up and tried to get into my face.

I laughed in his face.

"You're an asshole!" He screamed back, cute little rosy cheeks and everything.

I laughed harder, "At least we have something in common now!"

"Go fuck yourself!"

"I would, but you'd get there first!" Laugh. Laugh, laugh, snort. I didn't even know I could snort. Hell, I didn't even know I could laugh.

"Do you seriouslay think I would fuck _you_!" He had a look of disgust, but… HA HA HA!

"No," I held back giggles, "No, you probably wouldn't be man enough for that!" I laughed more trying to control myself for a couple seconds, "I'd probably have to fuck _you_! Ha, Ha, Ha!"

He held me down by the shoulders, again, like I was going to run away or something. "I swear to God, Kenny!"

"I am God!! I gave and then I took away!" I snorted loud, trying to cover my face, but my hands were crushed under those heavy legs of his.

"Kiss my ass!" He spat the words at my face.

"Oh! I'd kiss more than that!" Higher pitched laughs with tired breathing. My face was sore. Wait… or was it numb? It felt like my stomach was going to erupted from my belly button.

"Is that true?" He asked, really serious now.

Suddenly, this made me stop. I thought nothing would stop me from laughing. But I couldn't laugh at the face he was giving me this time. Sexy. "Yeah, Hell yeah…" My lips couldn't exactly move with the words.

"What would you kiss?" He asked, his grip loosening up more, lifting his body so it was barely on me anymore.

"I'd start with you lips," I did. Painfully lifting myself to him, "Then, you neck." My mouth worked down his warm, heated skin.

I felt the air empty from his lungs to a deep moan.

We both sat up now. I let my finger trace the lining of his coat, then snap all the buttons loose in a single motion, sliding the red jacket from his shoulders off his wrists. Happy that there was only a T-shirt under it, I took his arm, kissing from his fingers, "Your arms," stopping where the sleeves started. Then, moved to the opposite arm.

His cheek came to my head, resting. Breathing.

I lifted his shirt up, holding it there as my lips met the belly button and circled around his soft tummy, "Your stomach…"

He whined a little, scared and sensitive. He almost stopped me until my sentence got there first.

I lifted the covering higher and began at his curvy chest, melting the iced nipples with my tongue, "Your chest."

He exhaled harshly through my hair, fingers grabbing a hold of anything on me.

My fingers crept to his pants' button, but was stopped by him. I lifted my head to his, "What?"

"Don't." He whispered, holding my hands to guide them away, "Not yet."

I understood. I left it at that. For now.

-

Everyone was mad crazy the next day after school, for the stupid play. Friday night! Friday night! Oh God help us! It's Friday night!

I just laughed at the ridiculous mouse costumes people wore, running on the stage. Back and forth. Back and forth.

That's not right! No, no, No! Where is our princess!? Where is our Prince! Everything in ruined!

I sat on the little stool, sitting there, pulling down on the ropes to open the curtain, then letting go to close. I thought I was pretty damn good too.

"Sorry I'm late!" I recognize Butters' voice from a mile away. Our prince was here.

At first… Then I looked. Princess?! Butters was fully dressed in my Cinderella dress. Was he going for a cross-dressing prince, because if he was. He was doing a really good job at it.

"Oh! Oh, Kenny!" Butters yelled to me, horridly. He even ran to me with his little glass slippers.

I got off the stool and watched him in boredom, "Yes?"

"D-do me a huge-huge favor, please?" Like I had a choice with the face he was giving me.

"So, you're the princess?" I laughed, then continued, "Sure, what is it?" I stood, folding my arms across my chest.

"The P-prince just got fitted for his t-tux and it's backstage, would you m-mind bringing it to his dressing room? I really need to g-get things organized." He was practically begging me.

I could tell he needed the help. The girl mouse just did a nosedive off the stage and the red shirted mouse lost it's tail in the fan. I just laughed and gave him a 'whatever,' going off to do a less boring job.

"O-oh thank you!" He took my hand with a quick shake and went to aid the female rat first.

I shrugged at the sight, then was off to the back where most of the props were. The costumes too. I came across the suit and kind of looked at it. It was a really big size. Who the Hell was the prince if Butters was the Princess? I shrugged it off and figured I'd find out soon enough, when I came across the dressing room.

Knocking on the door I held the suit in my other arm, "Yo. Prince! They kind of need you out there." I knocked again after there wasn't an answer.

The door opened fast, "'Bout fuckin' time!" The actor screamed, then watched wide eyed.

"Cartman!?"

"Kenny!?"

"What the Hell are you…!?" We both asked at once.

He went first, "Why the Hell aren't you dressed yet!?"

I went second, "Why the Hell are _you_ the Prince!?"

He answered my question, "I'm not letting you kiss Butters in front of the fucking school! He's a freak! And I took Butters' role!"

"Butters _is_ the Princess you dumb ass!" I stomped my foot with frustration.

"What!? No, you are!" He said confused as all Hell.

I shoved the clothes in his face, "Just get dressed, Siamese shit sniffer!" What that meant, I didn't know. I was just pissed.

It only got worse hearing how they made a 'cute' couple. The horribly sick thing about it was… they were. Not like Wendy/Cartman cute. This was a whole new level of… Shit. Cute, little, fragile Butters with the big, amazing, arrogant Cartman. It was disgustingly sweet. Leaving a big pit of jealously straight to my chest.

It almost made me _want_ to be fucking Cinderella. But I stopped, thinking about how I got in the situation already. The bruises and cuts on my face would just be a waste.

God… Wouldn't mind getting some Prince Eric right now.

The funny thing was, I did. Right after rehearsals, I snuck into his dressing room, locked the door, and made sweet love down by the fire. The great thing about it was, he wasn't man enough for it. I was on top today. And ya know, for a big ass like that you'd never expect such a small hole. But I won't get ahead of myself.

What we did could possibly been a mistake though. Things would only get worse from there.


	13. You're Beautiful

Chapter Twelve: You're Beautiful

Another school day morning. I woke up before the alarm even rang and I was pressed against his warm body. Warm. Soft. And our hair matted with dried sweat and stuck together from last night (or should I say morning). Even with the odd smells of sex and vanilla scented candles, I brought myself closer. Happy. Smiling and feeling so lucky that my hands are the ones that can touch him. To every curve of his full body.

His eye opened slowly. Over tired, and overly happy. He pushed his head closer to me with more effort than needed and exhaled his sweet breath with relaxation. "Hey," his voice so cute and so calm.

I quietly laughed out the word, "hi." Scanning my eyes over every feature on his face, "You're beautiful." I pecked his moist lips and let out a mind numbing noise of satisfaction.

"You've been saying that all night," He whispered, reminding me with the same shocked look he'd given me the first time I said it.

"Well," I looked him over again and kissed his salty, sweated forehead, "You've been beautiful all night." My fingers pushed some of his browned hair behind his ear, "And you know what?" I let him guess, but couldn't help but answer right away, "You still are." I kissed those lips again.

He smiled one of those generic smiles and sat up, leaving me cold. "I have to pee," he stated, looking at the time. He lifted himself up off the opposite side to grab his boxers, then left.

I felt a little bad. Like I said something wrong. Well, it's obvious that he probably doesn't want to be called _beautiful_. He's a guy (Well, so am ). I just couldn't find the words to describe how amazing he was.

Pretty sounds like a princess, like Butters would be. Adorable wasn't it either, even if he _is_ cute. …And handsome sounds too… Formal. He was just a big beauty. I can't describe it more than that. But if that offended him, I'd stop.

He came back in the room, pale and shaky. He's looked like that a lot lately (After leaving the bathroom). I don't know what it is, but I know well enough not to ask. He laid down now, his back turned to me. I wondered if he was mad.

I placed my hand on his back, "Look. I'm sorry. If beautiful sounds too fruity for you, I'll stop saying it." I felt him scrunch together, but I kept my strokes rotating on his back. I felt him shiver, as I sat up over him to see his face. "Something wrong?" I asked putting as much concern in my voice as I could. I placed my arm resting on his front as my hand massaged his broad chest.

"What do you want?" He asked, not like the '_Get the Fuck away from me!'_ kind of way. But a real, truthful question. One where he wanted to hear an answer.

"What are you talking about," I let my head fall on his strong shoulder and gave it a small kiss. My arms hooked around him, just below his chubby chest.

"Are you doing this for my money?" He just laid there a little limp and continued with a scratchy throat, "How much?"

My brow lowered with confusion, bringing my head closer to his neck, barely touching it with my lips, "I wouldn't do that. I'm not a whore." I closed my eyes and brush my cheek to his skin, "I know I've done that shit before, but never with you." I only thought to myself how he could even assume that from me, "I did this because…" I trailed off, losing my voice for a second, "I love you."

He laughed, but it sounded more sarcastic than anything, "Do you expect me to believe that? You're a Goddamn liar." He went quieter barley finishing his sentence. "Wanna know the truth," he started, "No one can love me." He pulled my arms away from him with a yank, "'Cause no one will love a fat ass like me!" He pushed my arms back to me as if I let him barrow a piece of shit, "No one ever wanted anything more than my money." His voice squeaked from nervous laughing, "Why should you be any different?" His eyes were on me, glowing bright through the dark room.

"Have you _seen_ the people you hang out with?!" I practically screamed, feeling that more offended. "I would never take advantage of you!" I gripped the sheets and let out an aggravated yell (similar to the ones last night). "I fucking love you, dude! I wish I didn't, and if I could change that… Trust me, I would! But don't think I want your Goddamn money!" I breathed hard, him just laying there and me explaining this obvious shit was turning me on. I climbed on him and worked my lips sloppily around his face. "Yeah! You're fat, but God!" I groaned the savior's name as my hips automatically start thrusting against him, "You turn me on so bad!"

His body moving with my grinds without his control. Control? He never did. Just like he didn't have any control with falling for me. The only thing he had control of was his excuses of how "I want his money." Why would I need his money when I had him?

"You think you're any different than them?!" He pushed me off as he sat up. "You hate me so much, you like me! Everyone! Every single fucking one!" Yelling at me, louder than I've ever heard him. It's like someone turned the volume up loud on the fucking phone and it's still too loud when you hold the receiver away from your ear.

I would open my mouth if I had something to say. I would have screamed back if it would have made a difference. But it wouldn't. It was still 4:48. It's still dark out. I'm still sitting on the bed naked. He's still yelling. Our parents are still in the room next to us. We're still brothers. And we still had sex last night.

I just stood up and gathered my clothes from the floor. I did managed to get something out before leaving the room though, "I don't get you at all." I slammed the door as the pile in my hands covered my pelvic area, walking down the stairs.

I heard foot steps from behind. I flinched knowing it was either Cartman, or I woke up my dad. I slowly turned my head and didn't see either. It was Mrs. Cart… my mom.

"Is everything alright?" She asked sweetly, ignoring my bare ass towards her. It looked like she really cared, unlike another woman I know.

"Yeah," I forced a smile, "Just going out for a walk." I noticed how stupid that sounded after I said it. 4:50 in the morning with no clothes on.

She just took it like it was and smiled, "Okay, but make sure you get to school on time, okay hon?" She waved my way and continued down the hall, but stopped herself in mid-motion, "Would you like me to save some breakfast for you?

I shook my head, "No, I'll eat at school." That was a lie. I hardly eat breakfast. Once in awhile I do, only so I wouldn't be rude.

That woman practically slaves over a stove, making sure there's something to eat, plus more.

I waved and went out the door. Putting my clothes on quickly after. The morning isn't always the warmest part of the day (So cold).

-

Pretty much I did a whole lot of sitting and smoking until it hit seven and I went to school. On the way there though, I noticed a familiar orange jacket, and it wasn't mine.

"Kyle?" I sped my pace and walked next to him. I was happy to find someone who wasn't insane. "What's going on?"

"Dude, you look horrible," he commented. Probably seeing my bruises and scabs. I didn't really get a shower this morning either.. Or sleep. I probably did look like a wreck.

"Yeah," agreeing, then going quiet. I guess I didn't have as much to say to him as I thought.

"How's living with the asshole? Is it going alright?" I knew he was just making conversation because he could.

I nodded. He had no idea, and I was going to keep it that way.

"I heard you were out of the Cinderella role," He gave a smile, "You can thank Butter for that." He took my arm and pulled me close, looking both ways. "Don't say anything, but Butters as a total crush on Cartman, and well…" He trailed off, Trailed on. "I kind of helped him think of the plan."

My eyes went wide, "_You're _the one who planed for me to kiss Cartman in front of everyone!"

He looked confused as I was, "Whoa! What?!"

"That bastard told me the only way he'd get me out of the fucking play is if I kissed fucking Cartman!" I shouted, pointing at him, "Don't even tell me you didn't know about that!" …because I just screamed it out loud so everyone around us could hear.

"I didn't," he lowered his voice and took a second to rub at his head, "Well, it wasn't purposely aimed at you."

I waited to hear his explanation and why I wasn't informed about his retarded _plan_.

"I told Butters to find someone who can get close enough to Cartman so they can flirt with him in front of Wendy. That way, Wendy would make a big scene and break up with him and then Cartman would be single," It felt like he was writing on a chalkboard and explaining his plan with little drawings in my head, "Then, I told Butters to tell _him_ about _your_ situation and guilt trip his way into being either the princess so they would kiss." (One problem with that, Cartman didn't know I wasn't the princess). He shrugged his shoulders with nervousness, "And I thought I was killing three birds with one stone, "He went on, counting with each finger stood up, "Helping Butters with his crush," Pointer, "Helping you getting out of the play," Middle, "Then, helping Stan get Wendy back," Ring finger. He did look sorry and I understand it wasn't meant to get so out of hand.

But I totally screwed up by telling Butters all that stuff the night of my parents wedding. He knows way too much and probably used Kyle's plans with his own, pulling a fucking _Professor Chaos_ on me again. I hate when those stupid zodiac things are right.

Change of subject, "Hey, dude. Is there something going on with Cartman?" He asked, fixing some of the books in his hands, "He's acting a little different and hasn't called me _Jew-boy_ for a week now." He shrugged a little, "I know I shouldn't _care_, but I just wanted to know what was up."

"It's probably nothing," I assured him, "But if it helps, I'll let you know if something's up."

He nodded as his eyes went a little sadder, "I know he's a royal pain in the ass, but… ya know? We still go way back."

"I understand," I gave him a smile and went our separate ways. Me walking towards the school. Him running towards Stan, who now, had Wendy in his arms.

Sweet.

-

It was weird. Cartman wasn't at school today. I guess, it wasn't _weird_ since he did kind of look like crap this morning. That, or his ass was probably burning from the inside out (he he…).

"Oh! I-I miss him already," Butters whined with those big sad eyes… that didn't really seem to affect me anymore.

"Mmmhm.." I hummed out, not really paying attention. I just walked next to him with my hands in my pocket, and turning the volume up on the one earphone secretly in my ear. I looked up, suddenly stopping, putting my hand out to stop Butters too.

Stan was standing by a wall in front of us, not giving me the best stare. It looked like he was waiting for me or something. "Ken," he said simply, while walking in my direction.

"Stan," I swallowed nervously. I pushed Butters back a little more and whispered to him, "I think you should leave." I didn't want to be responsible for other people getting punched in the face too, because it didn't look like the jock wanted to talk.

Butters looked at me, then Stan. He nodded in a agreement and said, "Alright, see ya." And I swore I heard him whisper "hopefully" before he left my side.

"I heard what happened yesterday," He started.

"Whatever you heard was a misunderstanding. Just talk to Kyle. He knows more than me," I explained carefully, not wanting this to get any worse.

"Good," He smiled only to have it fade that second. He slammed me into the nearest lockers, pinning me against it. He whispered to my face, "Tell your boyfriend that he's dead the next time I see him. He should have never _Fucked_ with Wendy!" He let me go and started walking away, as if I was suppose to take that.

"No," I stood there, back still sore from a different reason, "He'll kick your ass."

He turned slowly, not expecting to face me again while we were in this conversation, "You think fatass can beat me?"

I felt the bruises on me from a couple days back. It was all from Cartman. Remembering it was a different story though, "Yeah! Yeah, I do!" I said, and let myself be the one who walked away.

_Pussy._

-

Come to think of it, I never stuck up for Cartman before. This would be the first (if you want to call it _sticking up for him_). And I did this because I wanted to. I seriously thought he was innocent. Wendy was the bitch.

My feet met the porch of my house. Today was a long waste of a day with whining and staring. At least twenty people came up to me and asked if I finally killed Cartman because of his _one-day_ absence. Out of those twenty, only two threatened to do something about it.

Freezing, I threw the ass of my cigarette in the snow with the ones from days before and let the smoke empty from my mouth before entering through the door.

Cartman was wrapped up in a dozen blankets almost half asleep. Pale. White face. Looking like white heavy lids, almost over dull grey eyes (from where I stood). The only thing that wasn't faded on him were the bright, heated cheeks (And yes, I do mean his face this time).

His mom was on a chair next to him, reading some fairy tale. Those stupid golden books, probably _The Three Little Kittens._ She had a happy, motherly, sing-song voice that made me want to sit down Indian style and listen to the ending too. Her eyes lifted from the book and came to me. She had the same brilliant green eyes as Cartman with the smile to match, "Hello, Kenny. Welcome home." She placed the book on her lap as she gently brushed her fingers to her son's sweated forehead. "Eric woke up with a terrible cold," He was fine the last time I saw him, "Would you mind getting a wet towel to put on his head?"

The caring way she said it hardly left me with a choice. I dropped my bag at the door and headed for the bathroom, not before I heard Cartman complain to his mom that she had stopped reading. I got a clean towel ready and headed back downstairs.

I couldn't help but smile at how they were so close. Even if Cartman was a brat. It was in a cute way, when you're allowed to take moments like this for granted because you know you'll get the same treatment the next day.

I handed her the cloth and watched her lay it on his forehead. She stroked his brown hair and continued reading while sitting much closer to his front. It wasn't too long until she got to the "happily ever after. The end." when a _ding_ was heard from the kitchen. "Oh!" She said a little surprised and placed the book on the chair as she got up. "The cookies are done. Would you like some, hon?" She patted his head, then looked my way, "Kenny?" She asked with a smile.

"Hell yeah, I want cookies!" Cartman blurted out the first second he could get, trying to fold his arms under the mountains of covers.

I stood a little awkward, then nodded, "Thank you." People asking me for something was a once in a lifetime thing, and I really didn't know how to react to that.

She just simply gave me a warm smile and disappeared into the kitchen.

My eyes went back to the couch and I stole my step mom's seat. Picking up the book first. _The Ugly Duckling._ Same difference. I looked up to him now and asked, "Feeling any better?"

"Yeah!" He answered loud and sarcastic, "It only feels like _two_ buses hit me."

"So, mom's home? Isn't she usually out now?" I always remembered our parents coming home later in the day.

"I made her stay home. I'm her son. I'm sick!" He pouted expecting me to know that. "I'm just surprised _you_ didn't skip."

I shrugged, flipping through the pages in the book, looking at this _ugly duck_. The only difference I saw, was that the duck was brown and the rest were white. I personally thought the brown one was cuter. Don't those white ducks get tired of looking like each other? They're probably just jealous that his feathers are brown and he can hide a lot easier when people come to shoot them. The white ducks are screwed if hunters come. Turning to the last page, he's a big white swan. And he's _petty._ why? Because he looks like everyone else? What kind of message are these books sending to little kids? 'You better fall under peer pressure and be like everyone else! Individuality sucks!'

He looked my way and gave me a sad look, "Not everyone ends like a swan, Ken."

I looked at him and just smiled, "The duck was stupid for being a fucking swan." I opened the picture to the _ugly duck_, "He's just different, not ugly," I pointed at him, "Most people mix those up." My knuckles touched his burning cheeks and couldn't hide a bigger smile from his cute expression.

He cuddled closer, half-way into my lap. He took a hold of my arm and kept it from going anywhere but at his cheek.

My frozen hands melted over his extremely hot cheeks, and almost burned at my knuckles. I let my other hand play with his soft brown hair, knowing at least he took a shower today. "I'd steer clear of Stan, dude," I said on a more serious note, "He really thinks you did something bad to Wendy."

His hands now playing with the bottom of my shirt when he cleared out his throat, "I smacked the bitch. And whatever Stan does because of it, whatever. It was worth it." He reached for the strings of my hoodie, but missed. He gave up and closed his eyes to rest, giving off a more groggier tone, "No woman gives me shit."

"Damn straight," I whispered, laughing a little. Cartman would give him a run for his money. So weak right now, but has the power to sound strong. He'll kick ass and take names. No one will want to mess with him when he's done. Not that people mess with him now.

He took my hand and kissed the backside of it, "I missed you." He said, weaker than before. He rested my finger tips to his lips and went on, "Sorry for the whole thing this morning." His lips tried their hardest to curve to a smile as he laughed, "I need at least six hours of sleep." He shifted a little, "And it doesn't help that it feels like mini cowboys rode a train in my ass."

"Eric," practically holding back tears of joy for the first time, I leaned down to give him a much needed kiss. My lips brushing at his cold, sick ones. Did he just prove Kyle wrong? He said Cartman never learns from his mistakes. What the Hell did he just do? Huh?

I went to pull back, but he forced me forward again. Pressing his lips harder against mine, then separating just enough to whisper something to me. "Take care of me," He moaned, sliding his hand under my clothes and up to my chest, "Just like last night." He kissed me again, as if begging.

His voice alone was making my hormones race at the fucking speed of light and didn't know how and if I could say 'No' to that. It would probably for the best if I _did_ say no, but the feeling of last night was incredible and I ached for it again. But what the fuck were we going to do? I couldn't bang him on the couch with our mom in the kitchen. His touches traveled all around with it's gentle course, while his lips numbed every muscle in my face. Then… I pushed my body forward as tingling shocks hit between my legs. I pulled my face away from his and whispered, "Get up to the bedroom."

"You're dad's there," He came back, and tried to pull my face back.

"Fuck," I swore, but was muffled between his mouth. It didn't really hit me to ask why he was there. He was there and it just pissed me off.

"My mom's car," I heard him breath at my neck, fixing his lips there.

I looked at him like he was a complete retard, "There's no way I'm screwing you in your mom's car."

…

But sure enough… I had screwed him in his mom's car. It wasn't like I had much of a choice. Everything at that point went numb, including my thinking. But once we started, everything was on fast forward. The back of my eyes saw pink and my veins felt like they were filled with cotton. Fucking high. I was having my dose of happiness for the day. And he was so sore, it didn't matter which way I moved, I had him screaming by the end.

Goddamn… I need a new hobby…

…

His sweated body pressed closer to me, laying his head just below my chest. "Fuck, Kenny," He managed through heavy breaths. "Oh my God," This time sweet and satisfied.

I just smiled and hugged him tighter, inhaling and exhaling through his shower scented hair. "I love you so much!" I nuzzled my face closer to his scalp, feeling so amazing. So fucking excited, "You're so beautiful!" It felt like I won the lottery, until I realized what I just said. That got me in trouble last time.

"I love you too," He whispered softly and rested his lips to my skin. I felt his lips curl up, smiling, "Thank you." I actually felt his cheeks heating more than before, too. Did I just make him blush from my complement?

I calmed myself a little and just enjoyed laying next to this amazing guy. And the best part, he was mine and no one else's.

"Say it again," He said with a tired voice.

"_You're beautiful."_

_-_


End file.
